“Do you know whether any one asked to see the prisoner Chupin yesterday?”
“Yes, sir, I went to fetch Chupin to the parlor myself.”
“And who was his visitor?” eagerly asked Lecoq, “wasn’t he a tall man; very red in the face—”
“Excuse me, sir, the visitor was a lady—his aunt, at least so Chupin told me.”
Neither M. Segmuller nor Lecoq could restrain an exclamation of surprise. “What was she like?” they both asked at the same time.
“She was short,” replied the attendant, “with a very fair complexion and light hair; she seemed to be a very respectable woman.”
“It must have been one of the female fugitives who escaped from the Widow Chupin’s hovel,” exclaimed Lecoq.
Gevrol, hitherto an attentive listener, burst into a loud laugh. “Still that Russian princess,” said he.
Neither the magistrate nor the young detective relished this unseasonable jest. “You forget yourself, sir,” said M. Segmuller severely. “You forget that the sneers you address to your comrade also apply to me!”
The General saw that he had gone too far; and while glancing hatefully at Lecoq, he mumbled an apology to the magistrate. The latter did not apparently hear him, for, bowing to the governor, he motioned Lecoq to follow him away.