Unfortunately for poor Fanferlot, M. Lecoq was always fully informed on every subject in which he interested himself.

“It seems to me, Master Squirrel, that you have forgotten something.  How far did you follow the empty coach?”

Fanferlot blushed, and hung his head like a guilty school-boy.

“Oh, patron!” he cried, “and you know about that too!  How could you have——­”

But a sudden idea flashed across his brain:  he stopped short, bounded off his chair, and cried: 

“Oh!  I know now:  you were the large gentleman with red whiskers.”

His surprise gave so singular an expression to his face that M. Lecoq could not restrain a smile.

“Then it was you,” continued the bewildered detective; “you were the large gentleman at whom I stared, so as to impress his appearance upon my mind, and I never recognized you!  Patron, you would make a superb actor, if you would go on the stage; but I was disguised, too—­very well disguised.”

“Very poorly disguised; it is only just to you that I should let you know what a failure it was, Fanferlot.  Do you think that a heavy beard and a blouse are a sufficient transformation?  The eye is the thing to be changed—­the eye!  The art lies in being able to change the eye.  That is the secret.”

This theory of disguise explained why the lynx-eyed Lecoq never appeared at the police-office without his gold spectacles.

“Then, patron,” said Fanferlot, clinging to his idea, “you have been more successful than Mme. Alexandre; you have made the little girl confess?  You know why she leaves the Archangel, why she does not wait for M. de Clameran, and why she bought calico dresses?”

“She is following my advice.”

“That being the case,” said the detective dejectedly, “there is nothing left for me to do, but to acknowledge myself an ass.”

“No, Squirrel,” said M. Lecoq, kindly, “you are not an ass.  You merely did wrong in undertaking a task beyond your capacity.  Have you progressed one step since you started this affair?  No.  That shows that, although you are incomparable as a lieutenant, you do not possess the qualities of a general.  I am going to present you with an aphorism; remember it, and let it be your guide in the future:  A man can shine in the second rank, who would be totally eclipsed in the first.”

Never had Fanferlot seen his patron so talkative and good-natured.  Finding his deceit discovered, he had expected to be overwhelmed with a storm of anger; whereas he had escaped with a little shower that had cooled his brain.  Lecoq’s anger disappeared like one of those heavy clouds which threaten in the horizon for a moment, and then are suddenly swept away by a gust of wind.

But this unexpected affability made Fanferlot feel uneasy.  He was afraid that something might be concealed beneath it.

“Do you know who the thief is, patron?”