Part 25 (1/2)

The cab stopped.

Jean bounded up the steps as one endowed with superhuman strength.

Placing his charge within, he mounted by her side.

”Faubourg St. Honore!” he commanded. ”And good speed and safe arrival is worth ten francs to you, my man!”

If Jean had followed his first idea and turned to the left instead of to the right he would have met some of his late revolutionary comrades returning, in boisterous spirits, to Le Pet.i.t Rouge.

”Parbleu!” exclaimed Villeroy, throwing himself into a chair, ”but I believe every police agent in Paris has trodden on my corns this day!”

”For my part,” said young Ma.s.sard, a thin, pale, indolent young man scarcely turned twenty-one, ”I don't see much fun in being hustled, shoved, kicked, pounded----”

”But, Armand,” interrupted the third man, ”think of the fun you have afforded the other fellow!”

This speaker was known as the double of Jean Marot, only some people could not see the slightest resemblance when the two were together,--Lerouge being taller, darker, more athletic in appearance, and more serious of temper.

”I say, Lerouge, I don't think your crowd of Dreyfusardes got much pleasure out of us to-day,” put in Villeroy, dryly.

”We got some of it out of the police, it is true,” said Lerouge. Henri Lerouge was half anarchist, socialist, and an extremist generally, of whom French politics presents a formidable contingent.

Armand Ma.s.sard thoughtfully helped himself to a pipe of tobacco from the grim tabatiere on the table. Politics was barred at Le Pet.i.t Rouge, and Lerouge was known to be rather irritable. On the subject of the police these young fellows were unanimous. The agents were considered fair game in the Quartier Latin.

”I've had enough of them for this once, George,” yawned Ma.s.sard.

”And they've had enough of us probably,” suggested Villeroy.

”It is lively,--too much,--this continued dodging the police----”

”Together with one's creditors----”

A loud double rap startled them.

”Mordieu!” exclaimed that young man, leaping to his feet, ”that's one now! Don't open!”

Again the peremptory raps, louder than before. There was also a clank of steel.

”Police agents or I'm a German!” said Villeroy.

Henri Lerouge, a contemptuous smile on his handsome face, arose to admit the callers.

”Wait!” whispered Ma.s.sard,--”one moment! Madame la Concierge shall receive them.”

This idea tickled the young men exceedingly. They had little to fear from the police, unless it was the chance identification on the Place de la Concorde. But these things are rarely pushed.

Madame la Concierge was quickly arranged, her candle lighted. Then the other light was turned down.

When the door was slowly opened four police officers, headed by the commissary of the quarter, entered.

But they stopped abruptly on the threshold. The hideous skeleton with the candle confronted them. A sepulchral voice demanded,--