This explanation did not please Lecoq's companion. "Have we made any
great progress now that we know that?" he asked.

Lecoq could not restrain an impulse to shrug his shoulders. "Did you
expect that the tracks made by the fugitives would lead us through Paris
and up to their very doors?" he asked.

"No; but--"

"Then what would you ask more? Do you think that I shall not know how to
find this driver to-morrow? He was returning with his empty vehicle, his
day's work was ended; hence, his stable is in the neighborhood. Do you
suppose that he will have forgotten that he took up two persons in the
Rue du Chevaleret? He will tell us where he drove them; but that will
not do us any good, for, of course, they will not have given him their
real address. But at all events he can probably give us a description
of them, tell us how they were dressed, describe their appearance, their
manner, and their age. And with that, and what we already know--"

An eloquent gesture expressed the remainder of his thought, then he
added: "We must now go back to the Poivriere, and go quickly. And you,
my friend, may now extinguish your lantern."

While doing his best to keep pace with his companion, who was in such
haste to get back to the Poivriere that he almost ran, Father Absinthe's
thoughts were as busy as his legs, and an entirely new train of ideas
was awakened in his mind.

During the twenty-five years that he had been connected with the police
force, the good man--to use his own expression--had seen many of his