"I surrender," said he, "and bow to you; you are great, like my master,
the great Tabaret."
The detective's amour-propre was clearly aroused; his professional zeal
was inspired; he found himself before a great crime--one of those crimes
which triple the sale of the Gazette of the Courts. Doubtless many of
its details escaped him: he was ignorant of the starting-point; but he
saw the way clearing before him. He had surprised Plantat's theory, and
had followed the train of his thought step by step; thus he discovered
the complications of the crime which seemed so simple to M. Domini. His
subtle mind had connected together all the circumstances which had been
disclosed to him during the day, and now he sincerely admired the old
justice of the peace. As he gazed at his beloved portrait, he thought,
"Between the two of us--this old fox and I--we will unravel the whole
web." He would not, however, show himself to be inferior to his
companion.
"Monsieur," said he, "while you were questioning this rogue, who will be
very useful to us, I did not lose any time. I've been looking about,
under the furniture and so on, and have found this slip of paper."
"Let's see."
"It is the envelope of the young lady's letter. Do you know where her
aunt, whom she was visiting, lives?"
"At Fontainebleau, I believe."
"Ah; well, this envelope is stamped 'Paris,' Saint-Lazare branch
post-office. I know this stamp proves nothing--"
"It is, of course, an indication."
"That is not all; I have read the letter itself--it was here on the
table."