“Show it to you!” exclaimed the landlady, angrily. “What do you take me for? What do you want? and who are you?” “You shall know in half an hour,” replied the young detective, realizing that further persuasion would be useless. He hastily left the room, ran to the Place de Roubaix, jumped into a cab, and giving the driver the address of the district commissary of police, promised him a hundred sous over and above the regular fare if he would only make haste. As might have been expected under such circumstances, the poor horse fairly flew over the ground. Lecoq was fortunate enough to find the commissary at his office. Having given his name, he was immediately ushered into the magistrate’s presence and told his story in a few words. “It is really true that they came to inform me of this man’s disappearance,” said the commissary. “Casimir told me about it this morning.” “They--came--to inform--you--” faltered Lecoq. “Yes, yesterday; but I have had so much to occupy my time. Now, my man, how can I serve you?” “Come with me, sir; compel them to show us the trunk, and send for a locksmith to open it. Here is the authority--a search warrant given me by the investigating magistrate to use in case of necessity. Let us lose no time. I have a cab at the door.” “We will start at once,” said the commissary. The driver whipped up his horse once more, and they were soon rapidly rolling in the direction of the Rue St. Quentin. “Now, sir,” said the young detective, “permit me to ask if you know this woman who keeps the Hotel de Mariembourg?” “Yes, indeed, I know her very well. When I was first appointed to this district, six years ago, I was a bachelor, and for a long while I took my meals at her table d’hote. Casimir, my secretary, boards there even now.” “And what kind of woman is she?” “Why, upon my word, my young friend, Madame Milner--for such is her name--is a very respectable widow (highly esteemed by her neighbors) and having a very prosperous business. If she remains a widow, it is only from choice, for she is very prepossessing and has plenty of suitors.” “Then you don’t think her capable of serving, for the sake of a good round sum, the interests of some wealthy culprit?” “Have you gone mad?” interrupted the commissary. “What, Madame Milner perjure herself for the sake of money! Haven’t I just told you that she is an honest woman, and that she is very well off! Besides, she informed me yesterday that this man was missing, so--” Lecoq made no reply; the driver was pulling up; they had reached their destination. On seeing her obstinate questioner reappear, accompanied by the commissary, Madame Milner seemed to understand everything. “Good heavens!” she exclaimed, “a detective! I might have guessed it! Some crime has been committed; and now my hotel has lost its reputation forever!”