"No one has drank from these glasses," said he, firmly.
"What, from neither one of them?"
The detective fixed a penetrating look upon his companion, and in a measured tone, said:
"From neither one."
M. Plantat only answered by a movement of the lips, as if to say, "You are going too far."
The other smiled, opened the door, and called:
"Francois!"
The valet hastened to obey the call. His face was suffused with tears; he actually bewailed the loss of his master.
"Hear what I've got to say, my lad," said M. Lecoq, with true detective-like familiarity. "And be sure and answer me exactly, frankly, and briefly."
"I will, sir."