Four days had passed since the events just narrated, when one morning M. Lecoq--the official Lecoq, who resembled the dignified head of a bureau--was walking up and down his private office, at each turn nervously looking at the clock, which slowly ticked on the mantel, as if it had no intention of striking any sooner than usual, to gratify the man so anxiously watching its placid face.
At last, however, the clock did strike; and just then the faithful Janouille opened the door, and ushered in Mme. Nina and Prosper Bertomy.
"Ah," said M. Lecoq, "you are punctual; lovers are generally so."
"We are not lovers, monsieur," replied Mme. Gypsy. "M. Verduret gave us express orders to meet here in your office this morning, and we have obeyed."
"Very good," said the celebrated detective: "then b
