“I think, Monsieur,” said he, very humbly, “that the murderers at Valfeuillu did not use either a hammer or a chisel, or a file, and that they brought no instrument at all from outside—­since they used a hammer.”

“And didn’t they have a dirk besides?” asked the judge in a bantering tone, confident that he was on the right path.

“That is another question, I confess; but it is a difficult one to answer.”

He began to lose patience.  He turned toward the Corbeil policeman, and abruptly asked him: 

“Is this all you know?”

The big man with the thick eyebrows superciliously eyed this little Parisian who dared to question him thus.  He hesitated so long that M. Lecoq, more rudely than before, repeated his question.

“Yes, that’s all,” said Goulard at last, “and I think it’s sufficient; the judge thinks so too; and he is the only person who gives me orders, and whose approbation I wish for.”

M. Lecoq shrugged his shoulders, and proceeded: 

“Let’s see; did you ask what was the shape of the dirk bought by Guespin?  Was it long or short, wide or narrow?”

“Faith, no.  What was the use?”

“Simply, my brave fellow, to compare this weapon with the victim’s wounds, and to see whether its handle corresponds to that which left a distinct and visible imprint between the victim’s shoulders.”

“I forgot it; but it is easily remedied.”

“An oversight may, of course, be pardoned; but you can at least tell us in what sort of money Guespin paid for his purchases?”

The poor man seemed so embarrassed, humiliated, and vexed, that the judge hastened to his assistance.

“The money is of little consequence, it seems to me,” said he.

“I beg you to excuse me I don’t agree with you,” returned M. Lecoq.  “This matter may be a very grave one.  What is the most serious evidence against Guespin?  The money found in his pocket.  Let us suppose for a moment that night before last, at ten o’clock, he changed a one-thousand-franc note in Paris.  Could the obtaining of that note have been the motive of the crime at Valfeuillu?  No, for up to that hour the crime had not been committed.  Where could it have come from?  That is no concern of mine, at present.  But if my theory is correct, justice will be forced to agree that the several hundred francs found in Guespin’s possession can and must be the change for the note.”

“That is only a theory,” urged M. Domini in an irritated tone.

“That is true; but one which may turn out a certainty.  It remains for me to ask this man how Guespin carried away the articles which he bought?  Did he simply slip them into his pocket, or did he have them done up in a bundle, and if so, how?”

The detective spoke in a sharp, hard, freezing tone, with a bitter raillery in it, frightening his Corbeil colleague out of his assurance.