attempt at self-destruction? Prison statistics show that habitual
offenders do not commit suicide. When apprehended for a criminal act,
they are sometimes seized with a wild frenzy and suffer repeated nervous
attacks; at others they fall into a dull stupor, just as some glutted
beast succumbs to sleep with the blood of his prey still dripping from
his lips. However, such men never think of putting an end to their days.
They hold fast to life, no matter how seriously they may be compromised.
In truth, they are cowards.

On the other hand, the unfortunate fellow who, in a moment of frenzy,
commits a crime, not unfrequently seeks to avoid the consequences of his
act by self-destruction.

Hence, the prisoner's frustrated attempt at suicide was a strong
argument in favor of Lecoq's theory. This wretched man's secret must be
a terrible one since he held it dearer than life, since he had tried to
destroy himself that he might take it unrevealed to the grave.

Four o'clock was striking when Lecoq sprang from his bed on which he had
thrown himself without undressing; and five minutes later he was walking
down the Rue Montmartre. The weather was still cold and muggy; and a
thick fog hung over the city. But the young detective was too
engrossed with his own thoughts to pay attention to any atmospherical
unpleasantness. Walking with a brisk stride, he had just reached the
church of Saint Eustache, when a coarse, mocking voice accosted him with
the exclamation: "Ah, ha! my fine fellow!"

He looked up and perceived Gevrol, who, with three of his men, had come
to cast his nets round about the markets, whence the police generally
return with a good haul of thieves and vagabonds.