could not be mistaken. They sank down three or four inches in the snow,
or the mud, and their tell-tale impress remained as clear and distinct
as that of a seal.

Thanks to these heels, the pursuers were able to discover that the two
fugitives had not gone up the Rue de Patay, as might have been supposed.
Probably they had considered this street too frequented, and too well
lighted. They had only crossed it, just below the Rue de la Croix-Rouge,
and had profited by an empty space between two houses to regain the open
ground.

"Certainly these women were well acquainted with the locality," murmured
Lecoq.

Indeed, the topography of the district evidently had no secrets for
them, for, on quitting the Rue de Patay, they had immediately turned
to the right, so as to avoid several large excavations, from which a
quantity of brick clay had been dug.

But at last the trail was recovered, and the detectives followed it as
far as the Rue du Chevaleret. Here the footprints abruptly ceased. Lecoq
discovered eight or ten footmarks left by the woman who wore the broad
shoes, but that was all. Hereabout, moreover, the condition of the
ground was not calculated to facilitate an exploration of this nature.
There had been a great deal of passing to and fro in the Rue du
Chevaleret, and not merely was there scarcely any snow left on the
footpaths, but the middle of the street was transformed into a river of
slush.

"Did these people recollect at last that the snow might betray them? Did