Speaker 1: The purloined letter by Edgar Allan Poe. At Paris, just
after dark one gusty evening in the autumn of eighteen,
I was enjoying the twofold luxury of meditation and Amersham
in company with my friend see Augustine Dupin in his
little back library or book closet Altrosse Mae, number thirty three,
Rue Dunot, Farbourg, Saint Germain. For one hour at least
we had maintained a profound silence, while each to any
casual observer might have seemed intently exclusively occupied with the
curling eddies of smoke that oppressed the atmosphere of the chamber.
For myself, however, I was mentally discussing certain topics which
had formed matter for conversation between us at an earlier
period of the evening. I mean the affair of the
Rue Morgue and the mystery attending the murder of Marie Rogett.
I looked upon it therefore as something of a coincidence.
When the door of our apartment was thrown open and
admitted our old acquaintance, Monsieur gi, the Prefect of the
Parisian Police, we gave him a hearty welcome, for there
was nearly half as much of the entertainer as of
the contemptible about the man, and we had not seen
him for several years. We had been sitting in the dark,
and d Penn now rose for the purpose of lighting
a lamp, but sat down again without doing so, upon
g saying that he had called to consult us, or
rather to ask the opinion of my friend, about some
official business which had occasioned a great deal of trouble.
If it is of any point requiring reflection, observed du Penn,
as he forbore to unkindle the wick, we shall examine
it to better purpose than the dark. That is another
of your odd notions, said the Prefect, who had a
fashion of calling everything odd that was beyond his comprehension,
and thus lived amid an absolute legion of oddities. Very true,
said de Penn, as he supplied his visitor with a
pipe and rolled towards him a comfortable chair. And what
is a difficulty, now, I asked, nothing more in the
assassination way, I hope, oh, no, nothing of that nature.
The fact is the business is very simple, indeed, and
I make no doubt that we can manage it. Sufficiently
well ourselves. But then I thought Dupin would like to
hear the details of it, because it is so excessively odd,
simple and odd, said Dupin. Why yes, and not exactly
that either. The fact is, we have all been a
good deal puzzled because the affair is so simple and
yet baffles us altogether. Perhaps it is a very simplicity
of the thing which puts you at fault, said my friend.
What nonsense you do talk, replied the Prefect, laughing heartily.
Perhaps the mystery is a little too plain, said Dupin. Oh,
good heavens, who ever heard of such an idea? A
little too self evident? Ha ha ho, roared our visitor
profoundly amused, Oh, Dupin, you will be the death of me. Yet,
And what, after all is the matter at hand? I asked. Well,
I will tell you, replied the Prefect, as he gave
a long, steady and contemplative puff and settled himself into
the chair. I will tell you in a few words.
But before I begin, let me caution you that this
is an affair demanding the greatest secrecy, and that I
should probably lose the position I now hold were it
known that I confided it to any one proceed, said I,
or not, said Dupin, Well, then I have received personal
information from a very high quarter that a certain document
of the last importance has been purloined from the royal apartments.
The individual who purloined it is known, this is beyond
a doubt, he was seen to take it. It is
known also that it still remains in his possession. How
is this known, asked Dupin It is clearly inferred, replied
the Prefect, from the nature of the document, and from
the non appearance of certain results which would at once
arise from its passing out of the robber's possession, that
is to say, from his employing it as he must
design in the end to employ it. Be a little
more explicit, I said, well, I may venture so far
as to say that the paper gives its holder a
certain power in a certain quarter, where such power is
immensely valuable. The Prefect was fond of the cant of diplomacy.
Still I do not quite understand, said dupet No. Well,
the disclosure of the document to a third person, who
shall be nameless, would bring in question the honor of
a personage of most exalted station. And this fact gives
the holder of the document an ascendency over the illustrious personage,
whose honor and peace are so jeopardized. But this ascendancy,
I interposed, would depend upon the robber's knowledge of the
loser's knowledge of the robber. Who would dare the thief?
Said G is the Minister d who dares all things,
those unbecoming as well as those becoming a man. The
method of the theft was not less ingenious than bold.
The document in question, a letter to be frank, had
been received by the personage rob while alone in the
royal boudoir. During its perusal, she was suddenly interrupted by
the entrance of the other exalted personage, from whom especially
it was her wish to conceal it. After a hurried,
in vain endeavor to thrust it into a drawer, she
was forced to place it open, as it was upon
a table. The address, however, was uppermost, and the contents
thus unexposed. The letter escaped notice. At this juncture enters
the Minister d. His Lynk's eye immediately perceives the paper,
recognizes the handwriting of the address, observes the confusion of
the personage addressed, and fathoms her secret. After some business
transaction hurried through in his ordinary manner, he produces a
letter somewhat similar to the one in question, opens it,
pretends to read it, and then places it in a
close juxtaposition to the other. Again, he converses for some
fifteen minutes upon the public affairs at length. In taking leave,
he takes also from the table the letter to which
he has no claim its rightful owner, Saul, but of
course dared not call attention to the act and the
presence of the third personage who stood at her elbow,
the Minister de Campt, leaving his own letter one of
no importance, upon the table here, then said Dependamy, you
have precisely what you demand to make the ascendancy complete.
The robber's knowledge of the loser's knowledge of the robber, yes,
replied the Prefect. And the power thus attained has for
some month been wielded for political purposes to a very
dangerous extent. The person who is robbed is more thoroughly
convinced every day of the necessity of reclaiming her letter.
But this, of course cannot be done openly. In fine,
driven to despair, she has committed the matter to me,
than whom said du pinn amid a perfect whirlwind of smoke.
No more sagacious agent could I suppose be desired, or
even imagined. You flatter me, replied the Prefect. But it
is possible that some such opinion may have been entertained.
It is clear, said I, as you observe that the
letter is still in the possession of the minister. Since
it is this possession, and not any employment of the letter,
which bestows the power. With the employment, the power departs, true,
said she, And upon this conviction I proceed. My first
care was to make a thorough ser to the Minister's hotel,
and here my chief embarrassment lay in the necessity of
searching without his knowledge. Beyond all things, I have been
warned of the danger which would result from giving him
reason to suspect our design. But said I, you are
quite off in these investigations. The Parisian police have done
this thing often before. Oh yes, And for this reason
I did not despair. The habits of the minister gave
me too a great advantage. He is frequently absent from
home all night. His servants are by no means numerous.
They sleep at a distance from their master's apartment, and
being chiefly Neapolitans are readily made drunk. I have keys,
as you know, with which I can open any chamber
or cabinet in Paris. For three months a night is
not passed during the greater part of which I have
not been engaged personally in ransacking the d Hotel. My
honor is interested, and to mention a great secret the
reward is enormous. So I did not abandon the search
until I have become fully satisfied that the thief is
a more astute man than myself. I fancy that I
am investigated every nook and corner of the premises in
which it is possible that a paper can be concealed.
But is it not possible? I suggested that although the
letter may be in possession of the Minister, as an
unquestioningly is, he may have concealed it elsewhere than upon
his own premises. This is barely possible, said du Penn.
The present peculiar condition of affairs at court, and especially
those entrings in which d is known to be involved,
would render the instant availability of the document its susceptibility
of being produced at a moment's notice, a point of
nearly equal importance with its possession, its susceptibility of being produced,
said I, that is to say, of being destroyed, said Dupin. True,
I observed the paper is clearly then upon the premises.
As for its being upon the person of the minister,
we may consider that as out of the question entirely,
said the Prefect. He has been twice waylaid as if
by footpads, and his person rigorously searched under my own inspection.
You might have spared yourself this trouble, said Dupinn. D
I presume is not altogether a fool, and if not,
must have anticipated these waylayings. As a matter of course,
not altogether a fool, said g But then he's a poet,
which I take to be only one removed from a fool. True,
said de Penn, after a long and thought full WHI
from his Meersham. Although I have been guilty of a
certain dogrel myself. Suppose you detail, said I, the particulars
of your search. Why the fact is, we took our time,
and we searched everywhere. I have had long experience in
these affairs. I took the entire building, room by room,
devoting the nights of a whole week to each We
examined first the furniture of each apartment. We opened every
possible drawer, And I presume you know that to a
properly trained police agent such a thing as a secret
drawer as impossible. Any man is adult who permits a
secret drawer to escape him in a search of this kind.
The thing is so plain. There is a certain amount
of bulk of space to be accounted for in every cabinet.
Then we have accurate rules. The fiftieth part of a
line could not escape us. After the cabinets, we took chairs.
The cushions we probe with fine long needles. You will
see me employ. From the tables we removed tops. Why so,
sometimes the top of a table or other similarly arranged
piece of furniture is removed by the person wishing to
conceal an article. Then the leg is excavated, the article
deposited within the cavity, and the top replaced. The bottoms
and tops of bedpost are employed in the same way.
But could not the cavity be detected by sounding? I asked,
by no means if when the article is deposited, a
sufficient wadding of cotton be placed around it. Besides, in
our case, we were obliged to proceed without noise. But
you could not have removed You could not have taken
to pieces all articles of furniture in which it would
have been possible to make a deposit in the manner
you mentioned. A letter may be compressed into a thin
spiral roll, not differing much in shape or bulk, from
a large knitting needle, and in this form it might
be inserted into the rung of a chair, for example.
You did not take to pieces all the chairs, certainly not.
But we did better. We examined the rungs of every
chair in the hotel, and indeed the jointings of every
description of furniture, by the aid of a most powerful microscope.
Had there been any traces of recent disturbance, we should
not have failed to detect it instantly. A single grain
of gimlet dust, for example, would have been as obvious
as an apple. Any disorder to the gluing, any unusual
gapping in the joints, would have sufficed to ensure detection.
I presume you looked to the mirrors between the boards
and the plate, seeing you probe the beds and the
bed clothes, as well as the curtains and carpets that,
of course, And when we had absolutely completed every particle
of the furniture in this way, then we examined the
house itself. We divided its entire service into compartments, which
we numbered so that none might be missed. Then we
scrutinized each individual square inch throughout the premises, including the
two houses immediately adjoining with the microscope. As before the
two houses adjoining, I exclaimed, you must have had a
great deal of trouble. We had, but the reward offered
as prodigious. You include the grounds about the houses. All
the grounds are paved with brick. They gave us comparatively
little trouble. We examined the moss between the bricks and
found it undisturbed. You looked among these papers, of course,
sent into the books of the library. Certainly we opened
every package and parcel. We not only opened every book,
but we turned over every leaf in each volume, not
contenting ourselves with a mere shake. According to the fashion
of some of our police officers, we also measured the
thickness of every book cover with the most accurate ad measurement,
and applied to each the most jealous scrutiny of the microscope.
Had any of the bindings been recently meddled with, it
would have been utterly impossible that the fact should have
escaped observation some five or six volumes just from the
hands of the binder. We carefully probed longitudely with the needles.
You explored the floors beneath the carpets. Beyond doubt. We
removed every carpet and examined the boards with the microscope
and the paper on the walls. Yes, you looked into
the cellars. We did. Then, I said, you have been
making a miscalculation, and the letter is not upon the
premises as you suppose. I fear you are right there,
said the Prefect, And now do Penn. What would you
advise me to do to make a thorough research of
the premises? That is absolutely needless, replied g I am
not more sure than I breathe than I am that
letter as not at the hotel. I have no better
advice to give you, said Dupinn. You have, of course
an accurate description of the letter. Oh yes, and here
the Prefect, producing a memorandum book, proceeded to read aloud
of minute account of the internal and especially of the
external appearance of the missing document. Soon after finishing the
perusal of this description, he took his departure more entirely
depressed in spirits than I have ever known the good
gentleman before. In about a month afterwards, he paid us
another visit and found us occupied very nearly as before.
He took a pipe in a chair and entered into
some ordinary conversation. At length, I said, well, but, g
what of the purloined letter? I presume you have at
last made up your mind that there is no such
thing as overreaching. The minister confound him say, I, yes,
I made the re examination however, as Tupenn suggested, But
it was all labor lost, as I knew it would be.
How much was the reward offered, did you say, asked Dupin.
Why A very great deal, a very liberal reward. I
don't like to say how much precisely, but one thing
I will say that I wouldn't mind giving my individual
check for fifty thousand francs to anyone who could obtain
me that letter. The fact is it is becoming of
more and more importance every day, and the reward has
been lately doubled. If it were troubled however, I could
do no more than I have done. Why, yes, said
de Penn, drawingly between the whists of his mersham, I
really think, g you have not exerted yourself to the
utmost in this manner. You might do a little more,
I think, Eh, how in what way? Why you might
employ counsel in the matter? Eh? Do you remember the
story they tell of Abernathy? No, hang Abernathy, to be sure,
hang him and welcome. But once upon a time a
certain rich miser conceived the design of sponging upon this
Abernathy for a medical opinion. Getting up for this purpose
an ordinary conversation in a private company, he insinuated his
case to the position as that of an ordinary individual.
We will suppose, said the miser, that his symptoms are
such and such. Now, doctor, what would you have directed
him to take? Take? Said Abernethy? Why take advice? To
be sure? But said the prefect, a little discomposed, I
am perfectly willing to take advice and pay for it.
I would really give fifty thousand francs to anyone who
would aid me in the matter. In that case, replied Dupinn,
opening a drawer and producing a check book, you may
as well. Fhe me up a check for the amount mentioned.
When you have signed it, I will hand you the letter.
I was astonished. The Prefect appeared absolutely thunder stricken for
some minutes. He remained speechless and motionless, looking incredulously at
my friend with open mouth and eyes at steam staring
from their sockets. Then, apparently recovering himself in some measure,
he seized a pen, and, after several pauses and vacant stairs,
finally filled up and signed a check for fifty thousand francs,
and handed it across the table to dupin The latter
examined it carefully and deposited in his pocket book, then,
unlocking an escritoire, took thence a letter and gave it
to the Prefect. This functionary grasp it in a perfect
agony of joy, opened it with a trembling hand, cast
a rapid glance at its contents, and then, scrambling and
struggling to the door, rushed at length, unceremoniously from the
room and from the house, without having uttered a syllable,
since Dupenna requested him to fill up the check. When
he had gone, my friend entered into some explanations the
Parisian police, he said, are exceedingly able in their way.
They are persevering, ingenious, cunning, and thoroughly versed in the knowledge,
which their duties seemed chiefly to demand. Thus, when g
detailed to us his mode of searching the premises at
the hotel d, I felt entire confidence in his having
made a satisfactory investigation, so far as his labors extended.
So far as his labors extended, said I, yes, said
de Penn. The measures adopted were not only the best
of their kind, but carried out to absolute perfection. Had
the letter been deposited within the range of their search,
these fellows would beyond the question, have found it. I
merely laughed. But he seemed quite serious in all that
he said. The measures, then, he continued, were good in
their kind and well executed. Their defect lay in their
being inapplicable to the case and to the man. A
certain set of highly ingenious resources are with the prefect
a sort of procrustian bed to which he forcibly adopts
his designs. But he perpetually errs by being too deep
or too shallow for the matter in hand. And many
a schoolboy is a better reasoner than he I knew,
one of about eight years of age, whose success at
guessing in the game of even and odd attracted universal admiration.
This game is simple and is played with marbles. One
player holds in his hands a number of these toys
and demands of another whether that number is even or odd.
If the guess is right, the guests are wins one.
If wrong, he loses. One. The boy to whom I
allude when all the marbles of the school, of course,
he has some principle of guessing, and this lay in
mere observation and add measurement of the astuteness of his opponents.
For example, an errant simpleton is his opponent, and, holding
up his clothes hands, asked are they even or odd?
Our school boy replies odd and loses. But upon the
second trial he wins. For then he says to himself,
the simpleton had them even upon the first trial, and
his amount of cunning is just sufficient to make him
have them odd upon the second. I will therefore guess odd.
He guesses odd and wins. Now with a simpleton a
degree above the first he would have reasoned. Thus this
fellow finds it in the first instance, I guessed odd,
and in the second he will propose to himself, upon
the first impulse, a simple variation from even to odd,
as did the first simpleton. But then a second thought
will suggest that this is too simple a variation, and
finally he will decide upon putting it even as before.
I will therefore guess even, He guesses even, and wins.
Now this mode of reasoning in the schoolboy, whom his
fellow is termed lucky, what in its last analysis is it?
It is merely, I said, an identification of the reasoner's
intellect with that of his opponent, It is said de
penn On. Inquiring of the boy by what means he
affected the thorough identification in which his success consisted, I
received an answer as follows. When I wish to find
out how wise or how stupid, or how good or
how wicked is anyone, or what are his thoughts at
the moment, I fashion the expression of my face as
accurately as possible, in accordance with the expression of his,
and then wait to see what thoughts or sentiments arise
in my mind or heart, as if to match or
correspond with the expression. This response of the schoolboy lies
at the bottom of all the spurious profundity which has
been attributed to Roushfakot, to Labugiv, to Machiavelli, and to Campignela.
And the identification I said, of the reasoner's intellect with
that of his opponent depends, if I understand, you are right,
upon the accuracy from which the opponent's intellect is at
measured for its practical value. It depends upon this, replied Dupenn.
And the Prefect and his cohorts fail so frequently, first
by default of this identification, and secondly by ill admeasurement,
or rather through noted measurement of the intellec like with
which they are engaged. They consider only their own ideas
of ingenuity, and in searching for anything hidden, avert only
to the modes in which they would have hidden it.
They are right in this much that their own ingenuity
is a faithful representative of that of the mass. But
when the cunning of the individual felon is diversing character
from their own, the felon foils them. Of course, this
always happens when it is above their own, and very
usually when it is below. They have no variation of
principle in their investigations at best, when urged by some
unusual emergency, by some extraordinary reward, they extend or exaggerate
their old modes of practice without touching their principles. What,
for example, in this case of d has been done
to vary the principle of action? What is all this
boring and probing, and sounding, and scrutinizing with the microscope,
and dividing the surface of the building into registered square inches.
What is it but an exaggeration of the application of
one principle, or a set of principles of search, which
are based upon the one set of notions regarding human
ingenuity to which the Prefect in the Laws, a long
routine of his day has been accustomed. Do you not
see he has taken it for granted that all men
proceed to conceal a letter not exactly in a gimlet
hole board than a chair leg, but at least in
some out of the way hole or corners suggested by
the same tenor of thought which would urge a man
to secret a letter in a gimlet hole board in
a chair leg. And do you not see also that
such researche nooks for concealment are adapted only for ordinary occasions,
and would be adopted only by ordinary intellects. For in
all cases of concealment, a disposal of the article concealed,
a disposal of it. In this researche manner is in
the very first instance presumable and presumed, and thus its
discovery depends not at all upon the acumen, but altogether
upon the mere care, patience, and determination of the seekers.
And where the cases of importance, or what amounts to
the same thing in the political eyes, when the reward
is of magnitude, the qualities in question have never been
known to fail. You will now understand what I meant
in suggesting that had the purloined letter been hidden anywhere
than the limits of the prefect's examination. In other words,
had the principle of its concealment been comprehended within the
principles of the prefect, its discovery would have been a
matter altogether beyond question. This functionary, however, has been thoroughly mystified,
and the remote source of his defeat lies in the
supposition that the minister is a fool because he has
acquired renown as a poet. All fools are poets. This
the Prefect feels and he is merely guilty of a
non distributed o media, and thence inferring that all poets
are fools. But is this really the poet, I asked.
There are two brothers I know, and both have attained
reputation in letters. The minister, I believe, has written learnedly
on differential calculus. He is a mathematician and no poet.
You are mistaken. I know him well. He is both
as poet and mathematician. He would reason well. As mere mathematician,
he cannot have reasoned at all, and thus would have
been at the mercy of the Prefect. You surprise me,
I said, by these opinions, which have been contradicted by
the voice of the world, you do not mean to
set it not the well digested idea of centuries. The
mathematical reason has long been regarded as the reason par excellence.
Il Aya Perier replied du Penn, quoting from Champ four
catut id publique to conversion ricouteste un sotis carl aconvenu
al pragond numbre. The mathematicians, I grant you, have done
their best to promulgate the popular error to which you allude,
and which is none the less an error for its
promulgation as truth with an art worthy of better cause.
For example, they have insinuated the term analysis into application
to algebra. The French are the originators of this particular deception.
But if a term is of any importance, if words
derive any value from applicability, then analysis conveys algebra about
as much as in Latin Ambetus implies ambition, religio, religion,
or haminas honesty a set of honorable men. You have
a quarrel on hand, I see said I with some
of the algebraists of Paris. But proceed. I dispute the
availability and thus the value, of that reason which is
cultivated in any especial form other than abstractly logical. I dispute,
in particular the reason adduced by mathematical study. The mathematics
are the science of form and quantity. Mathematical reasoning is
merely logic applied to observation upon form and quantity. The
great error lies in supposing that even the truths of
what is called pure algebra are abstract or general truths.
And this error is so egregious that I am confounded
at the universality with which it has been received. Mathematical
axioms are not axioms of general truth. What is true
of relation of form and quantity is often grossly false
in regard to morals. For example, in this latter science,
it is usually untrue that the aggregated parts are equal
to the whole. In chemistry, also the axiom fails in
the consideration of motive. It fails for two motives, each
of a given value, have not necessarily a value united
equal to the sum of their values. Apart, there are
numerous other mathematical truths which are only truths within the
limits of relation. But the mathematician argues from his finite
truths through habit as if they were of absolutely general applicability,
as the world indeed imagines them to be. Bryant, in
his Very Learned Mythology, mentions an analogous source of error
when he says that although the Pagan fables are not
believed yet, we forget ourselves continually and make inferences from
them as existing realities. With the algebraist, however, who are
pagans themselves. The Pagan fables are believed, and inferences are
made not so much through lapse of memory as through
an unaccountable addling of the brains. In short, I never
yet encountered a mere mathematician who could be trusted out
of equal roots, or one who did not clandestinely hold
it as a point of faith that X two plus
p x was absolutely and unconditionally equal to Q. Say
to one of these gentlemen, by way of experiment, if
you please that you believe occasions may occur, or X
two plus p x is not altogether equal to Q,
And having made him understand what you mean, get out
of his reach as speedily as convenient, For beyond doubt,
he will endeavor to knock you down. I mean to say,
continued Dupinn, while I merely laughed at his last observations
that if the Minister had been no more than a mathematician,
the Prefect would have been under known necessity of giving
me this check. I know him, however, as both mathematician
and poet, and my measures were adapted to his capacity
with reference to the circumstances by which he was surrounded.
I knew him as a courtier too, and as a
bold intrigument. Such a man I considered would not fail
to be aware of the ordinary political modes of action
he could not have failed to anticipate, and events have
proved that he did not fail to anticipate. The way
layings to which he was subjected. He must have foreseen.
I reflected the secret investigations of his premises, his frequent
absences from home at night, which were hailed by the
Prefect a certain aids to his success. I regard only
as ruses to afford opportunity for thorough search to the police,
and thus the sooner to impress them with a conviction
to which g in fact didn't finally arrive, the conviction
that the letter was not upon the premises. I felt
also that the whole train of thought which I was
at some pains in detailing to you just now, concerning
the invariable principle of political action and searches for articles concealed,
I felt that this whole train of thought would necessarily
pass through the mind of the Minister. It would imperatively
lead him to dispense with all the ordinary nooks of concealment.
He could not, I reflected, be so weak as to
not see that the most intricate and remote recess of
his hotel would be as open as his commonest closets
to the eyes, to the probes, to the gimlets, and
to the microscopes of the Prefect. I saw and find
that he would be driven, as a matter of course
to simplicity, if not deliberately induced to it as a
matter of choice. You will remember, perhaps, how desperately the
Prefect left when I suggested, upon our first interview that
it was just possible. This mystery troubled him so much
on account of being so very self evident, Yes, said I,
I remember his merriment. Well, I really thought he would
have fallen into convulsions. The material world continued, dupenn abounds
with very strict analogies to the material, and thus some
color of truth has been given to the rhetorical dogma
that metaphor or simile may be made to strengthen an
argument as well as to embellish a description. The principle
of the vis inertia, for example, seems to be identical
in physics and metaphysics. It is not more true in
the former that a large body is with more difficulty
set in motion than a smaller one, and that its
subsequent momentum is commensurate with its difficulty than it is
in the latter that intellects of the vaster capacity, while
more forcible, more constant, and more eventful in their movements
than those of inferior grade, are yet the less readily moved,
and more embarrassed and full of hesitation in the first
few steps of their progress. Again, have you ever noticed
which of the street signs over the shop doors are
the most attractive of attention? I have never given the
matter a thought, I said. There is a game of puzzles,
he resumed, which is played upon a map. One party
playing requires another to find a given word the name
of town, river, state, or empire, any word in short,
upon the motley and perplexed surface of the chart. A
novice of the game generally seeks to embarrass his opponents
by giving them the most minutely lettered names. But the
adept selects such words as stretch in large characters from
one end of the chart to the other. These, like
the over largely lettered signs in the placards of the street,
escape observation by dint of being excessively obvious. And here
the physical oversight is precisely analogous with the moral inapprehension
by which the intellect suffers to pass unnoticed those considerations
which are too obtrusive and too palpably self evident. But
this is a point it appears somewhat above or beneath
the understanding of the Prefect. He never once thought it
probable or possible that the Minister had deposited the letter
immediately beneath the nose of the whole world by way
of best preventing any portion of that world from perceiving it.
But the more I reflected upon the daring, dashing, and
discriminating ingenuity of d upon the fact that the document
must have always been at hand if he intended to
use it for good purpose, and upon the decisive evidence
obtained by the Prefect that it was not hidden within
the limits of that dignitary ordinary search, the more satisfied
I became that to conceal this letter the Minister had
resorted to the comprehensive and sagacious expedient of not attempting
to conceal it at all. Full of these ideas, I
prepared myself with a pair of green spectacles, and called
one fine morning, quite by accident, at the Ministerial hotel.
I found d at home, yawning, lounging and dawdling as usual,
and pretending to be in the last extremity of Vonui.
He is perhaps the most really energetic human being now alive,
but that is only when nobody sees him to be.
Even with him, I complained of my weak eyes and
lamented the necessity of the spectacles, under cover of which
I cautiously and thoroughly surveyed the whole apartment, While seemingly
intent only upon the conversation of my host, I paid
a special attention to a large writing table near which
he sat, and upon which lay confusedly some miscellaneous letters
and other papers, with one or two musical instruments, and
a few books. Here, however, after a long and very
deliberate scrutiny, I saw nothing to excite particular suspicion. At length,
my eyes, and going the circuit of the room, fell
upon a trumpery filigree card rack of pasteboard that hung
dangling by a dirty blue ribbon from a little brass
knob just beneath the middle of the mantelpiece. In this rack,
which had three or four compartments, were five or six
visiting cards and a solitary letter. This last was much
soiled and crumpled. It was torn nearly in two across
the middle, as if a design in the first instance
to tear it entirely up as worthless had been altered
or stayed. In the second. It had a large black
seal bearing the D cipher very conspicuously, and was addressed
in a diminutive female hand to d the Minister himself.
It was thrust carelessly, and even as it seemed contemptuously,
into one of the uppermost divisions of the rack. No
sooner had I glanced at this letter than I concluded
it to be that of which I searched to be sure.
It was, to all appearance radically different from the one
of which the Prefect had read au so minute a description.
Here the seal was large and black, with the D cipher.
There it was small and red with a dew arms
of the s family. Here the address to the Minister
diminutive and feminine. There the superscription to a certain royal
personage was markedly bold and decided. The size alone formed
a point of correspondence. But then the radicalness of these differences,
which was excessive, The dirt, the soiled and torn condition
of the paper so inconsistent with the true methodical habits
of d and so suggestive of a design to delude
the beholder into an idea of the worthlessness of the document.
These things, together with the hyperobtrusive's situation of this document
full in the view of every visitor, and thus exactly
in accordance with the conclusions to which I had previously arrived.
These things, I say, were sternly corroborative of suspicion, and
one who came with the intention to suspect, I protracted
my visit as long as possible, and while I maintained
a most animated discussion with the Minister upon a topic
which I knew well to have never failed to interest
and excite him, I kept my attention really riveted upon
the letter. In this examination I committed to memory its
external appearance and arrangement in the rack, and also fell
at length upon a discovery which set at rest whatever
trivial doubt I might have entertained. In scrutinizing the edges
of the paper, I observed them to be more chaffed
than seemed necessary. They presented the broken appearance which is
manifested when a stiff paper having been folded and pressed
with a folder is refolded in a reverse direction in
the same creases or edges which had formed the original fold.
This discovery was sufficient. It was clear to me that
the letter had been turned as a glove, inside out, redirected,
and resealed. I bade the Minister good morning, and took
my departure at once, leaving a gold snuff box upon
the table. The next morning, I called for the snuff
box when we resumed quite eagerly the conversation of the
preceding day. While this engaged, however, a loud report, as
if of a pistol, was heard immediately beneath the windows
of the hotel, and was succeeded by a series of
fearful screams and the shoutings of a terrified mob. D
rushed to the casement, threw it open, and looked out.
In the meantime, I stepped to the card rack, took
the letter, put it in my pocket, and replaced it
by a facsimile, so far as regards externals, which I
carefully prepared at my lodgings, imitating the d cipher very
readily by means of a seal formed of bread. The
disturbance in the street had been occasioned by the frantic
behavior of a man with a musket. He had fired
it among a crowd of women and children. It proved, however,
to have been without ball, and the fellow was suffered
to go his way as a lunatic or a drunkard.
When he had gone, D came from the window whither
I had followed him immediately upon securing the object in view.
Soon afterwards I bade him farewell. The pretended lunatic was
a man in my own pay. But what purpose had you,
I asked, in replacing the letter by a facsimile. Would
it have not been better at the first visit to
have seized it openly and departed? D replied, du Pinne
is a desperate man and a man of nerve. His hotel, too,
is not without attendance devoted to his interest. Had I
made the wild attempt you suggest, I might never have
left the ministerial presence alive. A good people of Paris
might have heard of me no more. But I had
an object Apart from these considerations. You know my political prepossessions.
In this matter. I act as a partisan of the
lady concerned for eighteen months. The Minister has had her
in his power, she now has him in hers. Since,
being unaware that the letter is not in his possession,
he will proceed with his exactions as if it was. Thus,
will he inevitably commit himself at once to his political destruction.
His downfall, too, will not be more precipitate than awkward.
It is all very well to talk about the facilis
the kansas of Verni, But in all kinds of climbing,
as Catalini said of singing, it is far more easy
to get up than to come down. In the present instance,
I have no sympathy, at least no pity for him
who descends. He is at monstrum horrendum, an unprincipled man
of genius. I confess, however, that I should like very
well to know the precise nature of his thoughts. When
being defied by her, whom the Prefect terms a certain personage,
he is reduced to opening the letter which I left
for him in the card raight. How did you put
anything particular in it? Why it did not seem altogether
right to leave the interior blank? That would have been insulting.
D At Vienna once did me an evil turn, which
I told him, quite good humoredly, that I should remember. So,
as I knew he would feel some curiosity in regard
to the identity of the person who had outwitted him,
I thought it a pity not to give him a clue.
He is well acquainted with my manuscript, and I just
copied into the middle of the blank sheet the words
and the san si funest sindanin datri aden Dethiist. They
are to be found in Crebian's Atri end of the
Purloined Letter by Edgar Allan Poe