When, in an article entitled “The Murders in the Rue Morgue,” I
      endeavored, about a year ago, to depict some very remarkable
      features in the mental character of my friend, the Chevalier C.
      Auguste Dupin, it did not occur to me that I should ever resume
      the subject. This depicting of character constituted my design;
      and this design was thoroughly fulfilled in the wild train of
      circumstances brought to instance Dupin’s idiosyncrasy. I might
      have adduced other examples, but I should have proven no more. Late events, however, in their surprising development, have
      startled me into some farther details, which will carry with them
      the air of extorted confession. Hearing what I have lately heard,
      it would be indeed strange should I remain silent in regard to
      what I both heard and saw so long ago. Upon the winding up of the tragedy involved in the deaths of
      Madame L’Espanaye and her daughter, the Chevalier dismissed the
      affair at once from his attention, and relapsed into his old
      habits of moody reverie. Prone, at all times, to abstraction, I
      readily fell in with his humor; and, continuing to occupy our
      chambers in the Faubourg Saint Germain, we gave the Future to the
      winds, and slumbered tranquilly in the Present, weaving the dull
      world around us into dreams. But these dreams were not altogether uninterrupted. It may
      readily be supposed that the part played by my friend, in the
      drama at the Rue Morgue, had not failed of its impression upon
      the fancies of the Parisian police. With its emissaries, the name
      of Dupin had grown into a household word. The simple character of
      those inductions by which he had disentangled the mystery never
      having been explained even to the Prefect, or to any other
      individual than myself, of course it is not surprising that the
      affair was regarded as little less than miraculous, or that the
      Chevalier’s analytical abilities acquired for him the credit of
      intuition. His frankness would have led him to disabuse every
      inquirer of such prejudice; but his indolent humor forbade all
      farther agitation of a topic whose interest to himself had long
      ceased. It thus happened that he found himself the cynosure of
      the political eyes; and the cases were not few in which attempt
      was made to engage his services at the Prefecture. One of the
      most remarkable instances was that of the murder of a young girl
      named Marie Rogêt. This event occurred about two years after the atrocity in the Rue
      Morgue. Marie, whose Christian and family name will at once
      arrest attention from their resemblance to those of the
      unfortunate “cigar girl,” was the only daughter of the widow
      Estelle Rogêt. The father had died during the child’s infancy,
      and from the period of his death, until within eighteen months
      before the assassination which forms the subject of our
      narrative, the mother and daughter had dwelt together in the Rue
      Pavée Saint Andrée; (*3) Madame there keeping a pension, assisted
      by Marie. Affairs went on thus until the latter had attained her
      twenty-second year, when her great beauty attracted the notice of
      a perfumer, who occupied one of the shops in the basement of the
      Palais Royal, and whose custom lay chiefly among the desperate
      adventurers infesting that neighborhood. Monsieur Le Blanc (*4)
      was not unaware of the advantages to be derived from the
      attendance of the fair Marie in his perfumery; and his liberal
      proposals were accepted eagerly by the girl, although with
      somewhat more of hesitation by Madame. The anticipations of the shopkeeper were realized, and his rooms
      soon became notorious through the charms of the sprightly
      grisette. She had been in his employ about a year, when her
      admirers were thrown info confusion by her sudden disappearance
      from the shop. Monsieur Le Blanc was unable to account for her
      absence, and Madame Rogêt was distracted with anxiety and terror. The public papers immediately took up the theme, and the police
      were upon the point of making serious investigations, when, one
      fine morning, after the lapse of a week, Marie, in good health,
      but with a somewhat saddened air, made her re-appearance at her
      usual counter in the perfumery. All inquiry, except that of a
      private character, was of course immediately hushed. Monsieur Le
      Blanc professed total ignorance, as before. Marie, with Madame,
      replied to all questions, that the last week had been spent at
      the house of a relation in the country. Thus the affair died
      away, and was generally forgotten; for the girl, ostensibly to
      relieve herself from the impertinence of curiosity, soon bade a
      final adieu to the perfumer, and sought the shelter of her
      mother’s residence in the Rue Pavée Saint Andrée. It was about five months after this return home, that her friends
      were alarmed by her sudden disappearance for the second time. Three days elapsed, and nothing was heard of her. On the fourth
      her corpse was found floating in the Seine, * near the shore
      which is opposite the Quartier of the Rue Saint Andrée, and at a
      point not very far distant from the secluded neighborhood of the
      Barrière du Roule. (*6)

      The atrocity of this murder, (for it was at once evident that
      murder had been committed,) the youth and beauty of the victim,
      and, above all, her previous notoriety, conspired to produce
      intense excitement in the minds of the sensitive Parisians. I can
      call to mind no similar occurrence producing so general and so
      intense an effect. For several weeks, in the discussion of this
      one absorbing theme, even the momentous political topics of the
      day were forgotten. The Prefect made unusual exertions; and the
      powers of the whole Parisian police were, of course, tasked to
      the utmost extent. Upon the first discovery of the corpse, it was not supposed that
      the murderer would be able to elude, for more than a very brief
      period, the inquisition which was immediately set on foot. It was
      not until the expiration of a week that it was deemed necessary
      to offer a reward; and even then this reward was limited to a
      thousand francs. In the mean time the investigation proceeded
      with vigor, if not always with judgment, and numerous individuals
      were examined to no purpose; while, owing to the continual
      absence of all clue to the mystery, the popular excitement
      greatly increased.