They searched everywhere, and, at last, upstairs in the Widow Chupin's
own room, they found a well-trimmed lantern, so small and compact that
it certainly had never been intended for honest purposes.

"A regular burglar's implement," said Father Absinthe, with a coarse
laugh.

The implement was useful in any case; as both men agreed when
they returned to the garden and recommenced their investigations
systematically. They advanced very slowly and with extreme caution. The
old man carefully held the lantern in the best position, while Lecoq,
on his knees, studied each footprint with the attention of a chiromancer
professing to read the future in the hand of a rich client. This
new examination assured Lecoq that he had been correct in his first
supposition. It was plain that two women had left the Poivriere by the
back door. They had started off running, as was proved by the length of
the steps and the shape of the footprints.

The difference in the tracks left by the two fugitives was so remarkable
that it did not escape Father Absinthe's eyes. "Sapristi!" he muttered;
"one of these jades can boast of having a pretty foot at the end of her
leg!"

He was right. One of the tracks betrayed a small, coquettish, slender
foot, clad in an elegant high-heeled boot with a narrow sole and an
arched instep. The other denoted a broad, short foot growing wider
toward the end. It had evidently been incased in a strong, low shoe.

This was indeed a clue. Lecoq's hopes at once revived; so eagerly does