10
THE MYSTEBY OF AN OMNIBUS.
"And the signature?" asked Freneuse.
"It is torn off," said Binos, who had read the letter aloud,
pausing at each unconnected sentence.    _
"Parbleu! you are not much the wiser. It is perfectly
unintelligible. All that you learn is that the ^deceased was
named Zlie, or Zphyrine, or Znobie, or
" You fancy, then, that it was she who dropped this
^"Tknow nothing about it, ma foi! but if she did not,
" The'otherthe woman who made use of the pin.    That
fragment of paper has served to wrap up the poisoned pin.
See how it is crumpled."                                    ,,.,.       ,j
"Yes; and she took care to tear the letter, so that it would
be perfectly unintelligible."                _
"Do you think so? The meaning is as clear to me as it
nothing was missing. Its purport is, the sending into an-
other world of the poor girl who sleeps on a marble slab at
the morgue. I will take the lines one by one. 'At last the
time has come.' That means, the moment to act has arrived.
'Arrived a month ago.' Who? The young girl, evidently;
and this accords with our ideas. She is not Parisian; it is
even probable that she is not French. I looked at her at-
tentively. It is not our pale sun that gilded her complex-
ion."
"True, she was of Spanish type.'
" Say, if you will, that she came from the heart of Anda-
lusia. "What was she here for? The writer of the letter
doubtless knew, and had been watching her. ' She goes out
very little, but sometimes ia the evening'where? He did
not vet know, but it was enough for him that she went some-
where. He had a project which he wished to execute without
delay. ' They want to have all ended by 'here is part of a
sentence which clearly establishes the situation. He receives
ordershe operates for another. This rascal is simply a hired
assassin."                                                 .                          ,
"Yes," murmured Freneuse; "but it is all very vague.
" Pardon me, the second line gives us an indication.    She
resides in the Rue des.    ' She ' is certainly this newly arrived.
She resides in the Bue des, not the Rue de.    Now, how many-
Rue des.are there in Paris?   Very few, are there not?" _
"You are mistaken: there are many. I can mention a
dozen from memorythe Rue des Amandiers, the Rue des
Bons-Enfants, the Rue des Blancs-Manteaux, the Rue des
Canettes, the Rue des Quatre-Vents, the Rue des Deux-Ecus,
the Rue des Mauvais-Garons
mint
"Enough! you will give me the whole 'Bottin Directory,'
and I prefer to consult it at my leisure. If there are fifty, I
shall inspect them all. I shall go fr^m house to house, in-
quiring whether a young girl has not disappeared."
"And at the end of three or four months you may, per-
haps, have found out .something," said Freneuse, shrugging
his shoulders. "It would be much simpler to place the pin
and the torn letter in thehands of the Commissary of Police,-
who will open an inquest, and, with the means at his disposal,
will soon discover the abode of the victim."
" Be it so. Then you will accompany me to the magis-
trate?"
" I ! Oh, no, indeed! I have already told you that I have
no time to lose."
" As you please, but I can do nothing without youI
mean nothing official. If I appear before the commissary, I
must tell him from whom I obtained the incriminating
articles. I must also narrate the death of your cat. I be-
lieve he would even ask to see Mirza's corpse, and perhaps
order an autopsy."
"Never!" exclaimed Freneuse. "They shall not dissect
my cat. It is quite enough for you to have murdered her."
" Then it is useless to report the matter to the commissary,"
replied Binos. "If it is placed in the hands of the police,
you must expect to be long and frequently examined. At
present no one believes in a crime; but if the poisoning of
Mirza is established, things will change their face. Dogs
and rabbits will be sacrificed; medical men will make reports
on the effects of curare, and a doubt of the murder will no
longer exist. All the agents will set to work, and, as you
alone remarked the murderess and her accomplice, you will
be desired to accompany these officers in their expeditions in
search of the guilty parties."
" Bah!   Is a man to be dragged from private life to take
part in such business as this?   You are making fun of me."
" I will admit that the picture is a trifle overdrawn, but
you may rest assured you will be called in every time a sus-
picious man or woman is arrested, and  have to deter
whether or not he or she shall be released."
"A charming prospect! to be all day long at the order
of the police! Do as you please. All that I ask is not to fee
mixed up with it."
"Then you will intrust  to me  the pin   and the ton
letter, and allow me to operate as I please?    It is ni
stood that we are to dispense with the commissary?"
"Yes, but------"
" But what?"
"I am not sure that we have a right to conceal what it,,
know. It would be the part of a good citizen to notify ^
authorities, instead of hiding his light under a bushel.""
" I beg pardon, but I mean to do so when the time comes
that is to say, when I hold the rascally pair. They will
owe me thanks, for I shall have prepared their task, and the
trial will be half over when I deliver up the criminals."
"Truly, your confidence in your abilities is to be admired,
Doubtless you propose to operate alone?"
"Not entirely. I have qualifications which would insure-
me a first rank as a bloodhound, but I want practice. At
the outset, I need a guide, an instructor, not in the great
principlesthese I have divined intuitivelybut to acquaint
me with the ins and outs of the business; and this man I
have already at hand."
"Ah!   Bah!"
" Ma foi! yes. He is a gentleman whom I meet often at
a af\iot in this neighborhood. He has conceived a friend
ship for me because I drew his portrait in red crayon at sight,
He is fond of talking police, and talks it well, too. I believe
he once belonged to it."
"Diable! you have pretty acquaintances!"
" Ma foi ! what would you have me do? I can't pass my
evenings in the salons of the Faubourg Saint-Germain; they
always forget to invite me. But if you knew this honest
Pidoucbe, you would understand the pleasure I take in his
society.    He is full of wit and amusing anecdotes."
"I do not doubt it, but will dispense with being presented
to him, and even beg to hear no more of him. And now
that we have come to an agreement, be good enough to re-
lieve me of everything that recalls this lugubrious story.
Carry off the letter, the pin, and even Mirza's corpse."
" Nothing would please me better, and I will relieve yon
of myself at the same time."
" A parting injunction," said Freneuse.    " Do
of all this before Pia.    She is very excitable, and
"Have no fears. If she asks what has become of your
cat, I will say that she was poisoned by licking paints from
your palette."
not speak
CHAPTER III.
Paul Fkeneuse had reasons of his own for not caring to
prolong an interview which would have been  interminable
if he had entered into the strange visions and fancies of
Binos.    While recognizing the probability that the young
girl in the omnibus had been murdered, he was far from*
lieving in the possibility of tracing the criminals, and had no
inclination to embark in an enterprise which would have
made demands on his time, and disturbed the tranquille
which he needed for his work.    He was strongly bent o
achieving an independent position, and was in a fair way"
attain his end.    He had already acquired the reputation wW
leads to renown, sometimes to glory.    Such success as hen
won he owed solely to his own exertions.    His father, w
might have transmitted to him a handsome inheritance, 
ruined by one of those commercial crises which somen.
subvert the most solid houses; he had died of grief and
appointment, leaving to his son only an unsullied name, 
ing sacrificed everything to meet his engagements,   l
only surviving relative, a distant cousin in the Pr0c^' t0
placed at his disposition a thousand francs, to enable m.
seek his fortune'in foreign parts.    Having no disposition   |
gold-digging in Australia, but with a strong inclint ion
ward painting, the charity was employed by going t0J"7
and working for his livelihood and his instructions,   n  *
set out a pupil, he returned a mastera young and no   j
disputed master, but appreciated by artists and appro*
the public which buys.    The critics, while ^P"?!^
cerning him, gave him consideration, and he found di   j
in supplying the orders of the bourgeoisie.    Both bono 
gold were therefore his.