Finally he reached the third floor, and stood before a door decorated with the arms of the famous detective—a cock, the symbol of vigilance—and his heart failed him so that he had scarcely the courage to ring the bell.
The door was opened by Janouille, M. Lecoq’s old servant, who had very much the manner and appearance of a grenadier. She was as faithful to her master as a watch-dog, and always stood ready to attack anyone who did not treat him with the august respect which she considered his due.
“Well, M. Fanferlot,” she said, “you come in time for once in your life. Your patron wants to see you.”
Upon this announcement, Fanferlot was seized with a violent desire to retreat. By what chance could Lecoq want anything of him?
While he thus hesitated, Janouille seized him by the arm, and pulled him in, saying:
“Do you want to take root there? Come along, your patron is waiting for you.”
In the middle of a large room curiously furnished, half library and half green-room, was seated at a desk the same person with gold spectacles, who had said to Prosper at the police-office, “Have courage.”
This was M. Lecoq in his official character.
Upon Fanferlot’s entrance, as he advanced respectfully, bowing till his backbone was a perfect curve, M. Lecoq laid down his pen, and said, looking sharply at him:
“Ah, here you are, young man. Well, it seems that you haven’t made much progress in the Bertomy case.”