To be sure, I do not blush for my
connection with the police, I am even vain of it; but at the same time,
I prefer that no one should know of it. People are so stupid, that
they detest the police, who protect them; I must be calm and on my best
behaviour, for here I am at the end of my journey."
M. Daburon had just gone to bed, but had given orders to his servant; so
that M. Tabaret had but to give his name, to be at once conducted to the
magistrate's sleeping apartment. At sight of his amateur detective,
M. Daburon raised himself in his bed, saying, "There is something
extraordinary! What have you discovered? have you got a clue?"
"Better than that," answered the old fellow, smiling with pleasure.
"Speak quickly!"
"I know the culprit!"
Old Tabaret ought to have been satisfied; he certainly produced an
effect. The magistrate bounded in his bed. "Already!" said he. "Is it
possible?"
"I have the honour to repeat to you, sir," resumed the old fellow, "that
I know the author of the crime of La Jonchere."
"And I," said M. Daburon, "I proclaim you the greatest of all
detectives, past or future. I shall certainly never hereafter undertake
an investigation without your assistance.
Pages:
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163