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 Zélie, or Zéphyrine, or Zénobie, or—— " You fancy, then, that it was she who dropped this ^"Tknow nothing about it, ma foi! but if she did not, " The'other—the 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 orders—he 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 memory—the 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-Garçons 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 you—I 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 principles—these I have divined intuitively—but 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 çafé—\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 Piédoucbe, 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 Pr0™c^' 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 inclinât 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 master—a 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.