Murder in the Rue Guenegaud
Théophraste Again Hears of His Treasures
The Express Train’s Disappearance
M. Milford Recognizes Cartouche
M. Mifroid Performs on the Stage
CHAPTER I
M. Théophraste Longuet Wishes to Inform Him-self and Visits Historical Monuments
THE strange adventures of M. Théophraste Longuet, which ended so tragically, originated in a visit to the prison of the Conciergerie, on the 28th of June, 1899. Therefore this history is modern; but the writer would say that, having read and examined all the papers and writings of M. Théophraste Longuet, its recentness does not detract from its sensational character.
When M. Longuet rang the bell of the Conciergerie he was accompanied by his wife, Marceline, and M. Adolphe Lecamus. The latter was a close friend. It was his physique that had attracted M. Longuet. He was not handsome, but was tall and well built, and every movement showed that strength which M. Longuet lacked. His forehead was broad and convex, his eyebrows were heavy and straight. He had a habit of every now and then lifting them gracefully to express his disdain of others and his confidence in himself. His grey eyes twinkled under near-sighted spectacles, and the straight nose, the proud arch of the underlip, surmounted by a dark, flowing mustache, the square outline of his chin and his amaranthine complexion, all combined to accentuate his strong appearance.
He had been employed as postmaster at Turin, and had traveled considerably. He had crossed the sea. This was also an attraction to M. Longuet, who had never crossed anything, unless it was the Seine.
M. Longuet had been a rubber stamp manufacturer, but had made sufficient money to retire at an early age. He was the antithesis of Adolphe in build and character. His face showed no marked intelligence, and his slight build lent almost insignificance to his appearance. He had, however, imagination, and he used to laughingly say to Adolphe: “Even if I haven’t traveled, I run just as much risk in walking the streets of Paris as one who crosses the ocean in ships. Might not houses collapse or pots of flowers fall on one’s head?” Thus he lived a monotonous existence, relieved only by the morbid workings of his mind.
Before his retirement he had worked hard and had little time to study, therefore, now he had leisure, it occurred to him to occupy his time in improving his mind. It was with this intention that we find him visiting the various buildings of historic interest around Paris.
On ringing the bell of the Conciergerie the iron door turned heavily on its hinges. A warden shaking the keys demanded of Théophraste his permit. He had anticipated this and had received it that morning from the Prefect of Police. He tendered it with satisfaction, looking around at his companion with the confidence of anticipations realized.
The
