ADVENTURES H.COLLINSON OWEN The Adventures of Antoine .OF CALitf 1 . LiiiAiA.il, THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE by H. COLLINSON OWEN THE JAMES A. McCANN COMPANY Publishers New York Copyright 1922 by THE JAMES A. McCANN COMPANY AH Rights Reserved PRINTER IN THE U. S. A. ToB In remembrance of happy days in Paris 2131823 CONTENTS CHAPTER PAOE I THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE II " LA DOULOUREUSE "..* 48 III THE KINO or PARIS ..... 93 IV BLACKMAIL FOR Two ...* 129 V THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN . . 166 VI THE VILLA AT NEUILLY ... 202 VII THE GREATEST ADVENTURE . 240 The Adventures of Antoine THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE CHAPTER I THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE WHY La Lumiere ever came into existence is neither here nor there for the purpose of this story. News- papers, like mushrooms, spring up in a single night in Paris, and sometimes last but little longer. La Lumiere promised to be something of the kind and this in spite of its dignified and broad survey of the world's activities, which was importantly described on the front page as "Political, Literary, Dramatic, Social and Financial." Everybody took it as a matter of course that its purpose in life sprang directly and solely from the last of these. Monsieur Prosper Leblanc, its proprietor, had evidently some axe to grind in the money markets. What it might be was entirely his own aifair, and the staff were not greatly concerned on this point, nor on M. Leblanc's reputation as a financier. He provided the motive power for a newspaper, and their chief desire was that he might continue to do so, no matter how he obtained it. Neither the establishment nor the staff of La Lumiere was very large. Its home was a suite of offices on the Grands Boulevards, and here the members of the various 1 2 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE departments, Political, Literary, Social, Dramatic and Financial little more than a dozen souls all told were in convenient touch with each other. La Lumiere had no printing or mechanical staff. The paper was produced in a huge building not far off in a side street, where a score of other newspapers were also printed, turned out wholesale like flannel. La Lumiere had now been in existence some six or seven months and everybody concerned began to feel that he was attached to an old, important and well- established organ of public opinion. The feeling that any evening might see a total cessation of activities began to pass away. On the rare occasions when M. Leblanc appeared at the office he seemed to be perfectly well satisfied with himself and the world ; and the staff, keenly alive to every facial reading in its proprietor, took confidence in the "set fair" marked by the barometer. M. Leblanc had also said that the paper pleased him very much. Then all was well. Morissot, who was responsible for the political side of the paper, and on principle fiercely attacked the Gov- ernment every night, no matter how hard it tried to do its best, suddenly blossomed into a monocle, and replaced his soft felt hat by an impeccable and shining silk topper ; un huit reflets that had glitteringly caught his eye one bright afternoon as he walked to the office, and captured him on the spot. The spirit of his example ran through the office. His colleagues felt this was a portent that could not be ignored. Morissot evidently knew something and from then the apparel of the staff of La Lumiere reflected the most serene optimism. When work was over, at some time after midnight, it was the custom of the staff to meet in a small cafe near the offices, just round the corner from the Boule- vard. They had so met from the earliest days when THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE 3 the most sanguine of them gave the paper no more than a month or so of life, and when the topic of conversation dealt exclusively with one subject 'the question of the vitality or otherwise of La Lumiere. The custom had continued, although now that securer and brighter days (had arrived there was a tendency on the part of one or two Morissot, for instance, and Bourdot, an elegant 'individual whose keen pleasure it was to chronicle the doings of the smart and worldly side of Paris not to consort quite so freely with the general run of the staff. But there was one gathering every month .which was attended religiously by all. This was on the last Friday, when Antoine Poiret, the general business manager, ad- vertisement manager and cashier combined, paid out salaries. In the early days the payment of salaries 'had seemed a monthly miracle, so that it had always been celebrated by a general visit to the Cafe de la Bonne Biere. This had gradually developed so that the staff assembled first at the cafe, and Antoine, as the cashier was generally known, came round and paid them there, handing the salary packets out to the staff i&s they sat at the little tables. To see Antoine bustle in, smiling, conscious of the importance of his task, his pockets bulging with money which he handed over with an air, was a splendid sight. As was natural in the circumstances, and not only because of them, he was very popular. And this in spite of the fact that he was a man with one dominat- ing idea in life. Usually people whose minds dwell mainly on one thing are very boring. But nobody at La Lumiere thought of calling Antoine a bore. His appearance on the evening of the last Friday in every month meant too much. Antoine's passion in life was a roulette system with which he was sure he could make a huge fortune at 4 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE Monte Carlo. He had spent years on its study, and 'had tested it in every possible way, save at the tables themselves. He had never been able to do this for the simple reason that he had never been able to possess himself of twenty thousand francs. And this was the precise sum he needed in order to put his wonderful gold by the barrel," he would say. system into operation. "Give me twenty thousand francs, and you shall have Nobody had ever trusted 'him with twenty thousand francs, and it was the grief of his life. He had tried to amass it, but without success. It is a stupid world. 'I't seems *so absurd," Antoine would cry. "Cristi, all I need is twenty thousand francs and a fortune is made! And yet nobody will ; lend me this miserable sum." And Friday evening at the Cafe de la Bonne Biere never passed without a lecture from Antoine on the virtues of 'his system, and a lament that he could not raise the necessary capital to set the wheel of for- tune turning. It was six o'clock on a fine Friday evening in spring, and the staff was gathered according to custom in the cafe. Half an hour passed, and there were remarks that Antoine for once was late. Another quarter of an hour, and one of the younger members was sent to see what was detaining the cashier. He came back with the news that Antoine was not to be found in the offices, nor could he hear anything of him. Old Jean, the doorkeeper, who sat in the outer office to deal with callers, said that he had not seen Monsieur Poiret all the afternoon. There was a little movement of disquiet amongst the staff at this news. "What does this mean?" asked the elegant Bourdot, looking round at the rest. THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE 5 "That there are no salaries, sapristi," exclaimed Morissot. "Let's hope he hasn't gone to Monte Carlo," said somebody with a laugh. "But you've said it," cried Morissot. "That's where he has gone to." Morissot, tall and cadaverous, was usually so self- contained, so calm and completely master of himself, that his present excitement caused something like con- sternation. "How do you know?" came a startled chorus. "Intuition putting two and two together what you will. I feel that it is so. I happen to know that Antoine was to touch a large sum of money from the patron this week. It was to start a big advertising campaign for the paper. For the first time he has found twenty thousand francs, or more, in his posses- sion. The temptation has been too much for him. He's gone to try that sacre system of his. He'll lose every centime, of course, and if they catch him he'll go to prison. But what good will that do us? And what will Leblanc do? Is he going to continue running a paper when the cashier bolts with the funds ? No ! It may mean the end of our jobs! It may mean the end of La Lumiere! Voila ou nous en sommes! " Morissot delivered this disquieting discourse almost without taking breath, his eyes growing more startled every moment. When he had finished there was a dead silence. The blow was a heavy one. "But perhaps he may still turn up," a faint voice said at last. An excited torrent of conversation broke out at this, but no one could extract consolation from his fellows. Everybody suddenly felt that Morissot's version was only too likely to prove true. The twenty thousand 6 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE francs, the eternal system! Antoine, after all, was a monomaniac. He was the last man to be trusted with money. Why had somebody not thought of it before? Dejectedly the staff filed out into the offices of La Lumiere, but with no heart for work. To Morissot it seemed useless to attack the Government, when there were people like Antoine about! To Bourdot for the first time the doings of the Smart Set of Paris seemed' a vain thing. What did these people know of troubles, of the cold shock when the cashier runs away with the salaries? The wise suggestion was made that M. Leblanc should be communicated with at once, and acquainted with the matter. A council was held, and Bourdot was unanimously selected as the office representative. Feeling very strongly the gravity and importance of his mission, Bourdot sat down at the telephone. After some trouble he got the proprietor's number. A circle of white faces was ranged round him. The staff pre- pared to hear one side of the fateful conversation. "Is it that Monsieur Leblanc is there?" they heard Bourdot say suavely, in his silkiest man-about-town tones. Then his face turned a shade paler, and he dropped the receiver with a tragic gesture. "What is it?" they shouted in chorus. "Monsieur Leblanc has gone on a business trip to Milan and will not be back for a week," said Bourdot simply. Black gloom, hopeless despair settled down on the office. Antoine gone! A month's salary gone! The patron gone! The whole staff at that moment would have found difficulty in mustering fifty francs. The situation was tragic. The readers of La Lumiere next morning little knew what misery there was to be read between the lines of placid and unemotional type. THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE II ANTOINE sat in a corner of the night rapide, bound for Monte Carlo. The journey was an hour old, but his face was flushed and his heart beating high. The temptation bad fallen on him late that after- noon, when for the first time in his life he had held the desired twenty thousand francs in his hands nay, more, thirty thousad! M. Leblanc's own hurried journey to Milan accounted for this. He was not the sort of man to leave money lying about loosely, but in the midst of a discussion with Antoine in his office on the subject of the advertising campaign the telephone on his desk rang. M. Leblanc picked up the receiver carelessly. "Allo!" he said. "Oui, c'est moi. What! To-day! Impossible." Then he was quiet a little while, listening. "Ah, the villain!" he cried. "So it's like that, is it. We'll see about that. I'll show him. Yes, yes! The six o'clock train. I'll be there !" And he dropped the receiver. He jumped up impulsively and paced the floor, his face working with excitement. "Listen, Poiret," he exclaimed, looking down on the cashier of La Lumiere. "I'm called away to Milan at once. It is an awkward moment, but there is a very big affair on there. And Bernard, you know Bernard, 'he's trying to cut me out. I've just been told on the telephone there. I'll show him, a fourth-rate dabbler in other people's money, whether he can get the better of a man like me. I'll show him!" M. Leblanc was very excited, and paced the floor again. "Now look here, Poiret. I want that advertising business put in hand at once. You know now what lines to go upon. I shall be back within a week. . . . By 8 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE that time I shall expect to see matters well on their way." He turned to a large safe let in the wall, unlocked it and took out a black box. From this he took a sheaf of notes and counted out a certain number. "Here are thirty thousand francs thirty of a thou- sand each. You will bank these this afternoon, retain- ing sufficient for salaries and the usual expenses of the month. Get on to those posters at once something striking, you know, vivid. And now au v'oir. See that you have good progress to report when I'm back." And M. Leblanc, who had never heard that the cashier of La Lumiere had a consuming passion, turned to 'his preparations for the journey to Milan. As for Antoine, he found himself in the sunny street with a pocket that bulged with notes ; lovely large blue banknotes for a thousand francs each, thirty of them. His head swam a little. He felt uncertain of his steps. He turned into a small cafe and sat down, to try and think. Since the patron gave him the money he 'had not uttered a word. He had not had a chance to. He had simply been pushed out into the street with a small for- tune in his pocket. Before Antoine's eyes came a vision of a green cloth with a wheel spinning in the center of it, and an ivory ball that jumped and clicked. Here at last fortune was in his grasp. He had only to borrow the money for a short time, go to Monte Carlo, make a fortune, and return, showering gold on his friends. No doubt the fellows at the office would be a little annoyed at the temporary dislocation of their affairs. But they would soon forgive that when they found their month's sala- ries doubled, nay trebled, and more. And there would be no real reason even to tell them where he 'had gone. He could be back in a few days and pretend he had THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE 9 been ill, anything. And after all, all things are for- given to the man who is successful. Antoine had already fallen. It was not, he told him- self, as if there were any dishonesty about it. It was not as though there were any possible doubt about his system. He knew that it would succeed. He had studied the mystery of roulette for years. He had a library of books about it. Every week he bought on the boulevards a little paper which gave the sequence of spins at Monte Carlo for every table during the pre- ceding seven days. He had tested his system thor- oughly. It could not fail. Dishonest! Nonsense. He would be a benefactor to the whole of the staff, and they would bless him. He could run papers of his own. Anything ! He would be on the plane of M. Leblanc himself aye, even richer and not so unscrupulous ! He rose feeling that the world had turned golden. The only thing necessary was speed. A day to go. Two, perhaps three, to enable his system to put forth its real strength. A day to return. Five days. That would be sufficient. There would be anxiety at the office while 'he was away. But they would not know where he was. He would not be disturbed. And think of the joy that would greet him on his return ! The night train went at nine o'clock. He had, then, over three hours to exist as best he could before he could start for the south and fortune. He sat on in the cafe, and the minutes seemed to drag by. The evening papers came, and he seized them eagerly, but found he could not read them. For, ever dancing before his eyes, was that vision of the green cloth, with the spin- ning roulette wheel and the jingling gold pieces. He had never actually seen it, but it seemed to him the most familiar thins: in the world. 10 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE He decided on an early dinner, and went to a quiet little restaurant where he would meet nobody. Seven o'clock came as he was sipping his coffee. They would be waiting for him now in the Cafe de la Bonne Biere. Ah, well ! It was a pity that his good confreres should be put to any inconvenience, but their trouble would soon be over and more than repaid. He settled his bill, and took a fiacre to his modest rooms in Montmartre. There he packed a bag leisurely, thoughtfully putting in a panama hat to protect him- self against the brilliant sun of Monte Carlo. The cab took him slowly on the long drive across the city to the Gare de Lyon. Antoine saw with relief that he had now only half an hour to wait. He changed one of the thousand-franc notes to buy his ticket. The booking clerk looked the note over with some care. "Come, come! It is a good one," said Antoine. "I have others like it." "Monsieur is lucky," returned the booking clerk. "He little knows how lucky," said Antoine to him- self, and walked gaily to the train. Ill AT about the very moment when Antoine was buying his ticket at the station, Morissot looked up wearily from the article he was writing dealing with the mani- fold iniquities of the Government. "And does this col- lection of suborned nondescripts think that the electors of France . . ."he was writing. But he really felt very little interest in the wrongs of the electors of France. A month's salary! Suddenly he sat up and uttered a cry. THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE 11 "Sacrebleu! Why did I not think of it before. Hey there, everybody. Come here." Doors flew open. He was surrounded at once. "Antoine has gone to Monte Carlo," he cried to his audience. "If he goes to-night he takes the nine o'clock train. Quick ! I'll stop him ! Money ! A taxi will just do it! Vite, vite!" "I'll come with you," cried Bourdot. "The fare for two will cost no more." There was a hurried turning out of pockets, and a minute later the two were bounding down the stairs with some twenty francs between them. "Finish my article, somebody," shouted Morissot. "Make it clear that the Government is the worst that ever afflicted France." And they were gone. On the boulevard they found a taxi just passing the door, and the driver, stimulated by the promise of a five-franc tip, bounded like the wind to the Gare de Lyon. With the best of luck they would only just do it. The two sat there consumed with anxiety and impatience, too emotional to speak. They had less than five minutes in hand when the taxi drew up at the big station. A good minute was lost in purchasing platform tickets, without which they were helpless. They das'hed through the barrier and in their excitement turned into the wrong plat- form. Doubling back they took the right turning just as the controleurs were closing the carriage doors of the stately Cote d'Azur Rapide. Breathless, their hearts pumping, they ran down the train, gazing feverishly into the the windows. Suddenly Morissot stopped, and pointed wildly. "Voila !" he gasped, with his last breath. There was Antoine reclining comfortably in the far corner of a carriage. They rapped on the window, 12 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE but Antoine, wrapped in his dream, did not see them. An old gentleman in a skull cap and velvet jacket, sitting near the window, gazed at them angrily. "Quick!" cried Morissot. "We cannot lose him like this. We must board the train at all costs. We will make him pay." "En voiture, en voi tu re," they were shouting on the platform. The train gave a jerk and began to roll along. The two friends ran desperately along the rapide seeking a way in. But the big heavy doors to the long corridor coaches were now closed, and it seemed impossible for them to jump in. They hesitated and were nearly lost. But as the train rolled majestically past them Morissot noticed an open door in the rear coac'h. "Run!" he shouted, and they dashed to meet it. Morissot scrambled in, Bourdot followed 'him. They stood breathless >and helpless but safely in the corridor. "We will walk along to his carriage presently and reveal ourselves to him," panted Morissot. "It will be a big surprise to Antoine." A train official who had seen their hurried and belated entrance came walking to them along the corridor. "Your tickets, if you please, Messieurs," he said politely. It was an awkward moment. Morissot looked at Bourdot. Bourdot looked helplessly at Morissot. "The fact is we have no tickets," said the latter, after a lengthy pause. "We caught the train at the last moment, and had no time to book." "Where are you going to?" The man looked at them suspiciously. THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE 13 Again the two exchanged glances. Bourdot spoke this time. "I don't know. That is, we are going to Mar- seilles, and on to Monte Carlo." "Mais impossible!" The ticket inspector spread out his hands. "This part of the train does not go to Marseilles." "But this is the Cote d'Azur Rapide. It must do!" they exclaimed together. "But, Messieurs, this is a slip coach. It is discon- nected at Melun, and the rest of the train goes on with- out stopping." "Mon Dieu, then we are lost," cried Morissot. "del, what a mess," exclaimed Bourdot. The inspector pulled out a little book. "First-class to Melun. That will be ..." "Listen a moment," said Bourdot desperately. "We have a friend in the forward part of the train, and he has all our money yes, by Heaven, all of it. We must get to him." "But you cannot. This coach is not connected up with the others. The corridor ends there." He turned and pointed to the end of the coach. "Then we are indeed lost!" said Morissot dramat- ically. "My friend, you must leave this matter until we get to Melun. We will explain all there. But for the moment we can do nothing." "Bien," said the inspector doubtfully. "Till Melun, then. We shall be there in just over an hour." He left them. "Ah, that cochon of a Poiret, to get us in this mess. And think, mon ami, think that the fat rogue is sitting there within a few yards of us, his pockets bulging with our money, which he is going to throw away on 14 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE the tables at Monte Carlo !" Bourdot clenched his fists in impotent rage. "What shall we do?" asked Morissot. "We have missed Antoine and we haven't enough money to pay our fares when we get to Melun, and no means of get- ting back to Paris." "Heaven knows," exclaimed Bourdot desperately. He started to pace the corridor in his agitation. Sud- denly he came back to Morissot, a new expression of hope on his face. "Listen ! In a first-class carriage there, alone, I have seen whom do you think? None other than Monsieur Victor Bruant, one of the leading directors of this railw? y. I know him. I was once able to do him a service at the time of his election to the Senate. What do you say if I put the whole case before him? He may help us." "It seems like Providence," exclaimed Morissot. "We will tell him everything." Bourdot entered, followed by Morissot. A distin- guished and well-preserved gentleman of about sixty, wearing the red rosette of an officier of the Legion of Honor, looked up with some surprise as they entered. Rapidly, and in his very best social manner, Bourdot introduced himself. M. Bruant was graciously pleased to remember the circumstances which Bourdot recalled. "I have something important, something grave, on which I and my friend and confrere, M. Morissot (he introduced Morissot, who bowed), would wish to con- sult you." "Speak," said M. Bruant. Rapidly Bourdot told the whole story La Lumicre, Antoine's passion, his flight, and the tragic situation that though he was in the same train they were power- less to stop him in his mad course. THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE 15 M. Bruant grew interested as the narrative pro- ceeded. At last lie spoke. "I should be extremely glad to help you, but I am afraid that even I must not stop the Cote d'Azur Rapide before its time. But my suggestion is this. At Melun I shall be able to make all easy for you. From there you must wire to the police at Dijon to arrest this Poiret in the train, and hold him until you arrive. I shall be able to facilitate your journey to that point." "Tiens! It is an idea," exclaimed Bourdot, and was immediately profuse in his thanks for M. Bruant's bril- liant idea and kind help. "But ought we to drag the police into it?" Morissot put in. "Ought we not try to settle it without their intervention? After all, this Antoine has behaved badly, but one does not want to make him a criminal. You would agree with us if you knew him." "An excellent sentiment," said the Senator. "But show me another way of stopping him from squandering all your money. And then, again, if this matter is arranged amicably at Dijon, and you bring the fugi- tive back on the pretense that there has been an unfor- tunate misunderstanding of some kind, there will be no need for further police interference." The two friends saw the force of this, and so it was agreed. Shortly afterwards their coach stopped. A magic word from M. Bruant in the ear of the chef-de-gare at Melun and their troubles on the score of tickets had vanished. "And now for the telegram," said their benefactor, as they stood on the platform. "Tell me, how shall we describe this Poiret?" They gave an outline of Antoine's appearance; a 16 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE little vague it was, a small pointed beard being the most striking detail in their description. "But wait," said Morissot. "He was in a first-class carriage of the second coach of the train, and his only companion was an old white-haired gentleman, wearing a black skull-cap and velvet jacket. He glared at us through the window." Monsieur Bruant seized this information eagerly. "That settles it," he said. "With your permission, gentlemen, I will send this telegram from the station here to the Dijon police. I shall be able to expedite it." They thanked him again profusely as he disappeared. He was back again in a few minutes. "I think we shall intercept your rogue of a cashier all right," he said. "I will arrange for you to go down to Dijon by the first fast train in the morning, and I trust that will be an end of your misfortunes. And now, gentlemen, my car is waiting outside the station. My chateau is a quarter of an hour's drive away. I beg of you to be my guests for the night." In the darkness of the platform the two confreres clasped hands fervently. They were in clover, and fol- lowed their Providence to where they could see a large motor-car waiting outside the station. The smile of Fortune was directed full upon them. IV ANTOINE, lying back in a corner of the comfortable first-class carriage, had fallen into a light sleep, in which he dreamed that he was rolling down the hill of Montmartre in a barrel of gold. The train stopped, and he awoke. Looking through the window he found that they had THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE 17 arrived at Dijon. It was early morning and the move- ment and bustle of the station sounded loudly in the still air. His one companion in the carriage was fast asleep, with his mouth open. Antoine had tried to enter into conversation with the old gentleman in the skull cap, but had found him quite disinclined to make chance acquaintances. There was a sudden rush and babble of voices on the platform, and Antoine looking through the window saw under the light of the lamps a Comimissaire of Police, girt with his official tricolor sash, accompanied by two policemen. The Commissaire looked excited and in- flated with importance. A cold feeling coursed down Antoine's legs, down to his toes, as he saw the emissaries of the law were boarding the coach in which he was. In a moment he heard their voices in the corridor. He was consumed with fright, and had he not been for the moment physically incapable of movement he would have opened the window and dropped out. A second later the Commissaire stood in the door of his compart- ment, the two policemen behind him, and a group of railway officials behind them. The Commissaire saw the sleeping figure of the old gentleman with the skull cap, and his face lit up. He glanced at a telegram in his hand, and then without a word he dropped his other hand on the shoulder of the old gentleman, and shook him vigorously. The old gentleman opened his eyes, and looked up. "What is it?" he demanded testily, in the tone of one who is not accustomed to interference. "Your name is Poiret," said the Commissaire, bluntly and loudly. "Come with me." "My name is not Poiret, and I shall not go with you," returned the victim, with spirit. "Hein! What do you say?" The Commissaire's 18 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE voice was unnecessarily loud, but he felt the gravity of his mission. "Your name is not Poiret! That is too good. I suppose next you will be telling me that you are not old, and that you do not wear a skull cap and a velvet jacket. You know what I'm here for. Will you come at once, or will you be carried?" The old gentleman glared at his tormentor, bewildered and angry. "You are mad," he cried. "My name, if you want to know it, is Robespierre, and I live in the Rue du Cherche Midi, Paris. And now, Monsieur, if you don't mind, will you please take away your detestable presence and let me go to sleep again." The Commissaire laughed in rare good humor. "Robespierre! That is good. That's a new trick. My compliments. But people don't have names like that nowadays. You'll be saying your name's Napoleon Bonaparte next, or Charlemagne. Attons! Do you shift, or do I call my men?" "Idiot imbecile!" hissed the old gentleman. He seemed ready to froth at the mouth. "Touch me if you dare !" "It is enough," said the officer of the law, his official patience at an end. He stood aside and beckoned to his men. They approached to seize the little man. But he suddenly developed the energy and fury of a wild cat. In a moment the three were in a heap on the carriage seat, and Antoine, fascinated and horrified, watched the unequal and inelegant struggle. Numbers and weight told. In a few moments the little gentleman, his skull cap torn off showing a highly polished bald head, was secured; breathless, but his eyes still glaring, he had no energy left for further speech, but as he was thrust through the doorway his eyes looked devilish things at his captors. THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE 19 Antoine felt as if he would faint. He became aware that the Commissaire, still in the doorway, had removed his hat and had turned to him with a bow. "I am exceedingly sorry, Monsieur, to have had to derange you," said that official, with a charming smile. "It has been a painful scene, but it is my duty. You will understand, I am sure. Bonne nuit." Antoine tried to speak, but only made a noise in his throat. With another smile and bow the Commissaire was gone. Through the window Antoine saw the tragic little group cross the platform and enter one of the waiting- rooms. The old gentleman had begun to kick again, but his captors held him firm. Antoine felt as if he must shriek aloud. And then the train moved slowly out of the station, leaving the terrible mistake behind. He wiped his brow, which was clammy and cold. It had been an amazing escape. He thanked the fates that he was alone in the carriage, with none to observe his agitation. His flight was discovered, then, and somebody was on his track. But who could it be? Leblanc had left for Milan. Then it must be somebody at the office. Antoine felt reproachful towards them. To pursue him in such brutal fashion ! They little knew what he intended doing for them. Possibly they did not realize it yet, but it was sheer ingratitude. But the situation was now altered. He was not now to be allowed calmly to go forward with his scheme at Monte Carlo, and to return triumphantly to Paris burdened with money. And yet he could not renounce his golden project, and go back tamely to the office and apologize for his absence. What was he to do? His mind was soon made up. He must hurry the affair. Speed was necessary. He had time. The 20 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE regrettable mistake made with the vigorous old gentle- man would take time to clear up. He had perhaps two full days in hand. He would make all the money pos- sible in the shortest time, and then when his tormentors caught him up he would say finely, with a contemptuous gesture: "Void! I have made all this. Take it!" Breakfast time found him at Marseilles, with a golden sun in a blue sky. Antoine was beginning to feel the strain of the last twelve hours, and he could not drive out of his mind the picture of the fiercely strug- gling old gentleman. He determined to seek him out later, and compensate him handsomely. It would be in his power to be generous, and make amends for the error. "It was very fortunate for me, all the same," he murmured. The train ran into Monte Carlo station shortly after noon. Antoine's emotion, when at last his feet touched the platform, was considerable. He could hardly believe it. "Enfin!" he murmured. This was a moment which had occupied his waking and dreaming hours for half a lifetime. And now at last the miracle had arrived. He was there, at Monte Carlo, with the necessary money in his pocket to achieve swift fortune. For twenty years he had desired this day. He could have embraced the porter who picked up his bag. "Why are you not rich?" Antoine asked him instead. "Monsieur says ?" "Why are you not rich? You live in Monte Carlo. It is enough. Why do you carry bags ?" "Monsieur is joking," said the porter. "Everybody is not rich in Monte Carlo. There are some even who come here rich, and leave very poor." "They must be imbeciles," said Antoine with decision. THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE 21 He felt sorry in a way for these poor devils. His heart was beating so with joy and excitement that he felt he wanted to skip along in the sunshine, beneath the lovely palm trees. He paralyzed the porter by pressing a golden louis into his hand. It was his offering to Fortune, this gift to the first person with whom he spoke on Monte Carlo soil. The business of the hotel over, Antoine hurried to the Casino, and caught his breath as he first beheld the im- posing white building, gleaming in the sun. He hurried up the famous flight of steps worn by the feet of count- less gamblers, lucky and unlucky, and found that there was a small vexatious delay because of the necessity of getting a ticket for the rooms. But another golden louis here paved the way to immediate attention. At last he passed through a noble door, and stood within the rooms. There was a slirill and constant chirrup in the air, like the voice of many sparrows outside the bedroom window in the early morning. It was the voice of gold; the musical ring of innumerable coins being tossed about and raked up and down on the dozen or more of roulette tables which were already in full swing. To Antoine it seemed like celestial music, or a hymn of Gold sung in praise of his infallible system. He approached the first table, and joined the crowd around it. He saw a roulette wheel spin for the first time, heard the little ivory ball jump and click, and saw how money was lost and won. He saw how other people were playing on systems, with little books before them which they consulted carefully, like accountants adding up figures, and in which they wrote down more figures from time to time. Antoine smiled a little pityingly. It was droll that they should be searching for a system when 'he had it in his pocket all the, time ! 22 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE For an hour he watched the play. The man behind whose chair Antoine was standing was losing heavily. At last he got up, his face dark and frowning. Antoine took his place, brought out his own books, and with a smile at the croupier as if to say "Sorry, I shan't be able to help winning your money," he began to play. MONSIEUR BRTTANT proved to be a charming host. He greeted his guests warmly when they met at breakfast next morning. "Messieurs," he said. "I have an idea. It will do this Poiret of yours no harm to cool his heels in the cells for another twenty-four hours. I am a widower. My children are married. I am alone in^ this big house for the week-end. Why not stay with me until to-morrow morning, and then go on to claim ymir prisoner? As I say, the waiting will do him good." Morissot looked at Bourdot, and Bourdot looked at Morissot. Their duty was to refuse this tempting offer, and take Antoine back to Paris at once, to where the sorrowing and anxious staff, deprived of a whole month's salary, awaited him feverishly. But their host was so charming, his chateau so comfortable and magnificent. . . . It would be delightful to spend another day there. And, moreover, the wait would certainly do Antoine good. They looked at each other again, and fell. "We shall be charmed," they said in chorus. A telegram came while breakfast was in progress say- ing that "the man Poiret" had been detained, and ask- ing for further instructions. "I can see Antoine from here," said Morissot. "How THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE 23 miserable he will be, to be caught like this just as he is about to put into execution the dream of his life. Almost I can feel sorry for him. There is only one Antoine. But it will do him good, assuredly, and the money is safe." They laughed at the idea of the impetuous Antoine cooling his heels in the cells, and their host shared the joke. "What a lucky accident it was that you saw me in the train," he said. "Otherwise . . ." And his gesture was eloquent of money disappearing in large quantities. A reply was sent asking that Antoine should be de- tained until the following day, when Messieurs Morissot and Bourdot would call for him. "When you go to-morrow," said the Senator, "I will give you a letter to the Commissaire. My name counts for something in Dijon. Then, if you so wish it, the affair can be treated as one in which further police inter- vention is not desirable. And of course, by that time Poiret will see that it is much better to come back quietly with you than be left in the hands of the police. You bring him back with the money, and all will be well." With that they went out for a long motor ride, re- turning in the evening. It was while they were sitting at an admirable dinner that Morissot suddenly made an exclamation. "Heavens, what will they be thinking at the office?" he cried. "I, too, had forgotten," said Bourdot miserably. "They will be in a fine stew." "Write them a letter of explanation to-night," said their host. "That will put them at their ease." It was done, the trials and adventures of the two being described in moving terms ; the letter winding up 24. THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE with the good news that Antoine would soon be brought back with the money practically intact. M. Bruant next morning gave them the letter to the Commissaire of Police, and insisted on pressing a loan of two hundred francs on them for immediate necessities. Another letter made them free of the railway to Dijon and back to Paris. "I shall be here for two days more," he said, as he saw them into one of his luxurious motor cars, waiting to take them to the station. "Be sure and let me know how everything goes on, and in the event of any emergency wire me. I shall be only too happy to help." "I did not know there were such good people on earth," said Morissot fervently as they drove away. "Say then, mon ami, do you not see the advantage of having a large acquaintance amongst distinguished people?" returned Bourdot proudly. It was afternoon when they arrived at Dijon. They proceeded at once to the police station and asked to see the Commissaire, and on explaining their business were immediately ushered into his presence. That worthy greeted them with great empressement. He was cor- diality itself after he had read the letter from M. Bruant. "I am happy to have been the means of serving you, Messieurs," he said. "This man Poiret is a curious customer." "Is he all right ?" Morissot asked. "Quieter now. But he has been very violent, ex- tremely violent. He kicked on his cell door most of the night. And by the way, he sticks to a story that he is not Poiret. Says his name is Robespierre. Oh, a clever one, I assure you." The two friends looked at each other with some surprise. THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE 25 "And what is the affair exactly?" said the Commis- saire with a smile. Morissot spoke hurriedly. "Well, it is rather a curious business, Monsieur le Commissaire. There has been a misunderstanding. M. Poiret has behaved a little rashly, that is all, and it is imperative that he should be seen in Paris again at the earliest possible 'moment. M. Bruant is interested in the case." An inspiration came to him. "As a mat- ter of fact, there is a lady concerned. Monsieur will understand, I am sure." "Perfectly," said the Commissaire with a smile. "We are men of the world, is it not ? And now, shall we go and see this Poiret. All is quiet, by the way. He is probably sleeping." The Commissaire rang a bell, an agent-de-police appeared, and they were conducted along a gloomy corridor. "This is the cell," said the Commissaire importantly. The policeman opened the door, and they stepped inside. It was rather dark, and the two friends at first could only make out the outline of a bed in the corner, on which a man seemed to be lying down asleep. But the Commissaire soon put an end to that. "Ho, there, Poiret," he called loudly. "Wake up. They have come for you at last." The figure on the bed moved and sat up. "They have, have they?" came a rasping voice out of the twilight. "Then you, idiot of a policeman, shall soon learn something." Bourdot clutched Morissot by the arm. This did not sound like Antoine's voice. "Here we are, Antoine," said Morissot, soothingly. "We have come to arrange matters amicably. Come! We are all going back to Paris." 26 THE ADVENTURES uF ANTOINE "Oh, the devil we are." The little figure suddenly leaped off the bed. "And are you the blockheads who are responsible for this?" M. Robespierre stood before them, his face, pallid from want of sleep, working with passion. Morissot gave a cry and sprang back. "Good God," exclaimed Bourdot. "But what is it?" cried the Commissaire. "What is the matter with you all ?" "This is not Poiret," the two friends cried in chorus. "Not Poiret!" exclaimed the Commissaire. "But I ask you. The skull cap, the velvet jacket. It must be Poiret. If it is not Poiret, who is it ?" "For two days, idiot, I have been telling you my name is Robespierre," croaked the little man. "Now perhaps you will believe me. You have made an enormous blunder, and you shall pay heavily for it." "But but the telegram," spluttered the Commis- saire. "I have it. You shall see it. Gentlemen, come to my office." He darted out of the cell, leaving the others to follow. Morissot and Bourdot, bewildered and troubled, ran after him, with M. Robespierre, making vindictive noises, bringing up the rear. When they arrived at the office they saw the Commissaire already looking, with a startled gaze, at a piece of paper in his hand. "Sapristi!" he said as they came in. "It is only too true. This telegram was read in a great hurry, prepa- rations were immediately made, -a mistake was com- mitted. It was taken to mean that the old gentleman, wearing the skull cap and velvet jacket (he bowed to M. Robespierre, who scowled in reply) was the person wanted. Mon Dieu, mon Dieu!" The Commissaire was in a high perspiration, and he THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE 27 found it impossible for 'his eye to meet the steely gaze of M. Robespierre. But something had to be done. The Commissaire braced himself up for the ordeal of apology. "Monsieur," he said, "I cannot express how distressed I am that this regrettable error should have been com- mitted. I offer you a thousand humble apologies. I appreciate now to the full the agitation of mind under which you have been laboring ever since er ever since our first meeting on the train. Monsieur Robespierre, again I apologize most humbly. I do not know what to say more, except to hope you will understand that I thought I was doing my duty." He sat down again, wiping his brow nervously. This aged little man with the unfaltering gaze was almost terrifying. "It is no part of an official's duty," rasped M. Robe- spierre, "to make egregious errors in the reading of a simple telegram and to arrest an obviously respectable citizen in the place of a rogue. I am not without influ- ence in Paris, Monsieur, and I can promise you that I shall make the most of this. No doubt you will hear more later." The Commissaire turned a little pale. "As you wish, Monsieur," he said, with dignity. Morissot and Bourdot had been standing tonguetied during this distressing scene. They were stunned by the terrible mistake, and by the realization that while they thought Antoine was safely under lock and key and they were enjoying themselves, he was instead busily squandering the money at Monte Carlo. And now there was this awkward business with M. Robespierre. Morissot looked at the implacable little man, and it sud- denly seemed to him that the face and name were familiar. Ah, he had it ! 28 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "Excuse me, Monsieur, but are you not the famous Monsieur Robespierre who wrote that admirable and monumental work on Egyptian Mythology which I had the pleasure of reading some time ago ?" For the first time a softer expression came over the face of the outraged little gentleman. "I am indeed he, Monsieur, and I was making my leisurely way to Egypt, via the Riviera, when this foolish official took possession of me." The Commissaire was no fool. He knew how to make the best of a good moment. "But what a misfortune !" he cried. "You are truly the famous savant, M. Robespierre of Egyptian fame! Monsieur, I cannot express to you how desolated I am. Only the other day a friend of mine who knows Egypt well was saying to me that your book is the classic of all time. He . . ." "His name?" demanded M. Robespierre. "Ah, you would not know him. His name is Duval ; he is an official in the finance department quite a modest position, but he takes an almost passionate in- terest in all that concerns ancient Egypt, and he told me that for him your book had become almost his Bible." Never in all his official career had the Commissaire lied so magnificently. "Ah!" It seemed as though a gentle radiance shone forth from under the parchment complexion of M. Robespierre. "It is good to know that there are people who appreciate the labors of a lifetime. Give my respects to your friend when next you see him." "I will, most assuredly," said the Commissaire. "And now, Monsieur," broke in Morissot, who wished to encourage the gentler spirit now manifesting itself, "may we tell you the story of why this distressing mis- THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE 29 take arose ?" And before he could be stopped 'he plunged into the narrative of Antoine and La Lumiere. "Then that person who would try and talk to me was your Antoine Poiret," said M. Robespierre. "And I apologized for disturbing him !" groaned the Commissaire. He banged his desk savagely. "It is a most interesting story," said the Egyptolo- gist. "What do you propose to do?" "I suppose we must go back to Paris without him," said Bourdot. "Nonsense!" cried M. Robespierre. "Give up the chase at such >a moment! Never! Follow him to Monte Carlo, and no doubt you will yet be in time to save much; of 'the money. And I will come with you. It is on my way, and I have a fancy to see more of this Poiret who has caused me so much discomfort." "Listen," said Morissot 'hurriedly to Bourdot. "We will do it. We will telegraph to the Senator telling him how things have gone wrong, and he will telegraph instructions here for us to be allowed to go on. We shall be able to take the night train and be at Monte Carlo to-morrow." "Agreed," said Bourdot. "It is a wise decision," said M. Robespierre. "And now, gentlemen, I propose to leave this too hospitable place at once." His face darkened again, and he turned to the Commissaire. "Monsieur, what are we to do about this unfortunate affair? It is no light error that you have committed. What reparation do you propose to make?" The Commissaire spread out his hands with a hopeless gesture. "Monsieur Robespierre cher Maitre w*hat can I do? I am in your hands and I have a family a large 30 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE family. I have already two children and who knows? some day there might be another. It is in your power to make matters most awkward for me if you wish. It was an unfortunate error an excess of zeal. Monsieur Robespierre, I throw myself on your compassion. And, tenezl I will buy your famous book, and will vie with my friend Duval in my admira- tion of a master who is so justly celebrated." M. Robespierre considered for a moment, and then smiled. "So be it," he said. "We will leave it at that." "I thank you infinitely, cher Maitre," said the Com- missaire, bowing low, his face all smiles and happiness. They took ceremonious leave of him, and the three passed out into the street. "To the telegraph office first," said M. Robespierre briskly, as he stepped along at a fine pace. "That Com- missaire is the most perfect liar I have ever met. With that and his zeal he should go far." VI ANTOINE'S first experience at the tables was a most pleasant one. In two hours, playing steadily and unemotionally, according to the dictates of the system, he had won five thousand francs. This encouraged and puzzled him at the same time. He had expected to lose at first, and the system allowed for this. But if Fortune intended to smile broadly from the very begin- ning so much the better. At this point he left the tables for dinner. He had not forgotten that haste was necessary, but after all a man must dine. And he felt that all was well. The question that exercised his mind most was why he had THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE 81 not come to Monte Carlo years ago. He was here now, and it all seemed so easy. He dined extremely well, but swallowed his coffee with haste, left the splendors of the hotel behind him, and almost ran the few yards down the hill to the Casino. He found a place immediately at one of the tables, and sat down feeling master of himself and of all the world. He put his little books of moves and calculations before him, changed notes, and placed half a dozen little piles of gold beside the books. Then coolly, method- ically, his brain clear, undisturbed by the spin of the fascinating wheel and heedless of the exclamations and emotions of others round him, he began to play. He lost steadily. At first he was indifferent to it. The system would soon begin to speak. But as the night wore on and, with occasional runs of prosperity, the bank claimed one pile of gold after another, he began to feel a slight anxiety. Not in the intrinsic truth and eventual triumph of the system. That was infallible. But would it work quickly enough? So that when his pursuers came up with him he would be able to point magnificently to the fortune he had already amassed. By midnight when the rooms closed he knew he had lost a good deal. He made a rapid calculation in his little books and found that he had lost five thousand francs he had won during the afternoon and nearly eight thousand more on the top of them. It was serious but by no means desperate. The system was only biding its time. On the morrow it would show its hand in full force. His head was busy with figures as he walked back up the hill. In his bed- room he ran rapidly through the well-known formula with which he had now lived for twenty years. Every- thing was all right. If only he was not hurried ! To- morrow would make it all right. He slept fairly well. 32 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE He was down before the tables opened next morning. To his surprise he found every seat occupied by a shabby-genteel crowd of men and women, most of them middle-aged or old. He went to the seat which he had occupied when he won the five thousand francs. An old hag in a piteous hat rose as he approached. "You can have my seat for ten francs, Monsieur," she whispered. "It is a very lucky seat." "I do not believe in luck," said Antoine. But he gave her the ten francs all the same. "Faites vos jeux" cried the croupier. His voice was clear. It was the first spin of the morning. The old lady put her ten fran.cs on the red, the black turned up and she went away with a grimace, and an exclamation of disgust. "So much for luck," said Antoine to himself, as he turned to his books. ***#* * Antoine lost heavily throughout the morning. The system seemed to be playing hide and seek with him. Time after time it gave him successful little runs, dur- ing which the piles of gold before him grew larger. But always when the time came to stake heavily, so as to win in one grand coup more than he could lose in a dozen small ones, the system seemed to elude 'him with a chuckle and his gold disappeared into the bank. Time after time he changed notes for more gold. The croupier took them as impassively as a Chinese god, put them in a heavily grilled metal box by his side, and tossed out in return a stream of sparkling gold pieces. The crowd left the tables towards the lunch hour and Antoine finding himself almost alone went out. He lunched at the Cafe de Paris opposite, and again dipped into figures. Another five thousand francs gone ! This was unfortunate. His faith in the system w . ." The head waiter approached the table with a large visiting card in ihis hand. "Monsieur Poiret?" 'he inquired. Antoine took the card and read, "M. Victor Bellefille." "Who is it? I do not know him." "M. Bellefille is a high official at the Casino," said the head waiter. "He is waiting in the lounge and 46 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE would be glad of a few minutes with Monsieur when it is convenient." Antoine passed a hand wearily over his forehead. "I cannot see him. I have been through too much." M. Robespierre picked up the card, a gleam of ex- citement in his eyes. "This man must be seen," he said. "I have an idea. Do you three gentlemen give me full powers to act in your place?" He looked from Antoine to the other two. They agreed at once and the little man hastened away. He did not return until they were sipping their coffee. He sat down with a chuckle. There was mirth in his eye. They looked at him, consumed by curiosity. "I have sold the system," he announced. They gasped. "Yes, I have sold the system to the Casino authori- ties, in the names of you three gentlemen all three of you. The conditions are that you," he turned to Antoine, "assure them that the system is your own invention, that it is known only to you, and that you agree never to impart it to anybody else." "And the price ?" They spoke in a breathless chorus. "Half a million francs !" Antoine buried his face in his handkerchief. His shoulders heaved, as with uncontrollable laughter. But when he lifted his face again they saw he was in tears. "It is too much," he said. "I cannot speak." # # * * # # They sat smoking in the lounge, near to the spot where M. Leblanc had so hurriedly left them. "Between ourselves," said M. Robespierre, "I imagine that the authorities are not tremendously impressed with the value of the system, or its danger to them. But they know a good advertisement when they see one, THE TEMPTATION OF ANTOINE 47 and they decided to make use of your experience. From time to time they like the world to hear of a sensational coup. Luckily for you they decided to make you a victim of their subtle publicity. The fact that you broke the bank, and that they then brought off your system this will filter throughout the world. Wher- ever there is a gambler, his fingers will itch at the story of your luck. They will come flocking from afar, with ' their own systems. Monte Carlo will not be the loser." "Ah! That explains a lot," said Antoine. "I was wondering a little. But the world will not be entirely a loser, either. We will keep La Lumiere going, and Paris shall at last have a newspaper worthy of it. If we wait our time we shall be able to buy it for a packet of cigarettes. And then, think of it! I, Antoine Poiret, Business Director. You, Morissot, Political Director. Parliament will be open to you, the moment you like to walk into it. And you, Bourdot your in- fluence in Society will grow, your name will be men- tioned in every salon; the world of art, of literature, of the theatres, is yours. . . . And you, Monsieur Robespierre, how can we repay you?" The famous savant laughed through the smoke of 'his cigar. "I? I have no fierce ambitions. I have lived too long for that. But I will contribute Notes from Egypt on the subject of my excavations. And whenever I feel that life is dull I will think of La Lumiere and its three Directors." CHAPTER II 'LA DOULOUKEUSE 7 MONSIEUR ANTOINE POIRET, Business Director of the enterprising and well-esteemed Paris journal, La Ltimiere, sat in a corner of t'he Cafe de la Bonne Biere eating a modest but well-cooked dinner. It was here, just round the corner from the offices, that the members of the staff often came to dine when time pressed, and Antoine, though now .a person of supreme importance at La Lumiere, did not disdain to patronize the little cafe where in earlier days he had come as cashiere to distribute the salaries of the staff. Antoine, with ihis co-directors, Morissot and Bourdot, had now been in charge of the fortunes of La Lumiere for some four months. The examination of M. Leblanc's affairs, following on his arrest at Monte Carlo, had revealed such a condition of wholesale chicanery that the officers of the law hardly knew where to begin to unravel them, and in the meantime M. Leblanc still languished in the Sante Prison. La Lumiere had fallen into liquidation, and the three friends had been able, as Antoine had prophesied, to secure it for "a packet of cigarettes." With the money they were able to put down they easily obtained further capital, and the paper was now giving every promise of a pros- perous future. 48 "LA DOULOUREUSE" 49 But all the same, the three directors of La Lumiere would have liked to see its march toward greatness accelerated a little. They wanted or at any rate Antoine did to do something startling. They wanted Paris to talk about their paper. The point had often been the subject of discussion between the three, although this sort of thing was left chiefly to Antoine. Bourdot had other things to do. Small and elegant, he was now one of the best dressed men in Paris. His waistcoats were a dream. He lived luxuriously in those social circles which were his especial delight, and was accounted somebody. He was on speaking terms with every duchess in the Faubourg St. Germain and pretty actresses besought his attention. As for Morissot, it was next to impossible to get him to take any interest in anything outside politics, and the iniquities of whatever Government happened to be in power. His pen seemed to be dipped in vitriol, and his daily article had become a feature of Paris journal- ism. His tall cadaverous figure, a monocle in his eye, became known on the Boulevards. Now that he was in a position to do exactly as he liked he desired only to be left to his beloved politics. Thus Antoine was left to himself in thinking out his schemes for greater fame and circulation. A sensation. But how? He had just finished an excellent ris de veau, and had called for coffee, when the door of the cafe opened and Bourdot came in. "I was told you were here," said Society's favorite. He looked round the modest cafe with some disfavor. "I have been to a reception cJiez la Duchesse de Pau. Everybody was there. But that is not what I came to see you about. I have an idea for you. To-day I visited the Louvre a rendezvous with a certain charm- ing person" Bourdot gave a twist to his neat mous- 50 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE tache "but never mind that. It struck me then how badly our national treasures are guarded. I was stand- ing by La Douloureuse Leonardo da Vinci's incom- parable masterpiece, the most famous picture in the world and imagine it! there wasn't a gardlen within sight of me ! I could have put that enormously valuable little picture under my overcoat and walked off without a soul seeing me. I walked through other galleries, and it was the same everywhere. With the exception of the Venus de Milo who is rather heavy, practically anything could be stolen. ..." "Yes, but the idea," said Antoine, a little impatiently. "I am coming to that. Why not start a campaign for the better guarding of our national treasures? Attack Binot-Varillon. It would be popular. He has been Minister of Fine Arts far too long. No matter how often the Government changes you will find him back again. Show Paris that our national treasures of incalculable value are not so well guarded as a pair of cotton stockings at the Bon Marche. Say ..." "One moment," interrupted Antoine, his eyes sud- denly agleam, "that's all right as far as it goes but why not steal La Douloureuse?" "Steal La Doulorueuse! You're joking." "Not really steal it 'but say it has been stolen. Why not publish the news that the masterpiece has been stolen, and been replaced by a copy. There are always artists there copying these chefs d'cewure. We will say that this has been done that the real La Dou- loureuse is already across the Atlantic, in the possession of an American millionaire who has paid a fantastic sum for it. That will shock Paris. There will be a great sensation, the Ministry of Fine Arts will deny it, but a lot of people will believe us. Then when the scandal ! has got well started we will confess that the "LA DOULOUREUSE" 51 story is a fabrication but point out that it was done to draw attention to the criminal way in which our treasures are left unguarded. Paris will laugh. We shall be forgiven but we shall have a sensation. Hein?" "It is ingenious but it is going too far." Bourdot shook his head. "We could hardly do that." "But why not. La Lumiere 'still has its way to make. It wants to be noticed. We fabricate a sensa- tion but in a good cause. The moment we announce why we have done it Paris will be with us. I tell you, Bourdot, it is a splendid idea. It grows as I think of it." His 'arms were waving now eloquently. "I can see the excitement in Paris ; the anger at the news that the greatest of all pictures has been stolen; the doubts when the official denial is given and then the relief and the roar of laughter when we explain. Come, we must put this to Morissot. We shall have all Paris talking to-morrow." Bourdot brightened up a little at this. Antoine's enthusiasm was of a very infectious quality. But he had a last word to say : "Listen, Antoine. This is your affair, your respon- sibility. ..." "Ah! you take life too seriously! There is nothing to fear. Your duchesses will laugh. You will be more popular than ever. Come!" They found Morissot deep in a scathing attack on the Government's foreign policy. The Governiment was only six weeks old, but Morissot 'had already laid to its charge an appalling list of crimes and errors. He laid his pen aside and listened to Antoine's lyrical exposition of the scheme. "It seems rather an extravagant idea," he said when Antoine had finished ; "but if you have made your mind 52 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE up I suppose there is no use in trying to stop you. Binot-Varillon has certainly many enemies in the Gov- ernment. ... I leave it to you." And he picked up his pen again. "So be it," cried Antoine. "Bourdot, man vieux, en marche! Tell Paris in your own admirable way how she has been ravished of her proudest treasure." II THE article appeared next day. It was on the front page, in bold type and adorned with sensational head- lines. It told Paris how the most famous and the most historic painting in the world had been stolen from the treasure-house of the capital and taken away across the broad Atlantic. "What is a few million dollars, more or less, to these American millionaires with, their fantastic fortunes?" wrote Bourdot. "But to Paris the loss is irreparable. She has been ravished of La Dovloureuse, and while some Transatlantic Croesus gloats in secret over the marvel which he is compelled to keep 'hidden from the eyes of the world, the City of Light is bereft of this incomparable gem of the Italian Renaissance, this glittering jewel of pictorial art." Antoine was down early at the office next morning. The first sign of interest came in a telephone call from the Echo du Soir, an evening paper, which desired to know what truth there was in the story. Antoine took the receiver. "Mais comment! Do you think La LumHere would publish such a statement unless it had the very best grounds for doing so?" "LA DOULOUREUSE" 53 "But then, if true, this matter is of the very first importance. It is a national scandal." "Perfectly," returned Antoine. "But we have communicated with the Ministry of Fine Arts," the voice over the telephone went on, "and they assure us that there is not a word of truth in the story." "Naturally. But do you suppose them at once to confess to a -scandal which will electrify France? Of course, they will deny it to the last moment." "Then we publish the story on your authority. Have you any further details to give us?" "Not at present. But look in La Lumiere to-morrow morning. Possibly you will see something there. .. ,. . Bon jour, Monsieur." Antoine hung up the receiver gaily. "Ca marche!" he murmured. "We are getting pub- licity. Paris will hum with this to-day." Within the next half-hour there were inquiries from four other evening papers. There were urgent requests for something more corroborative in the way of detail, but these Antoine begged politely to decline for the present. With the early afternoon the first editions of the evening papers were out. All of them reproduced boldly the article of La Lumiere. One of them had a special article recounting a visit paid by its representa- tive to the Louvre, where the picture of La Douloureuse tras still hanging on the wall. "But was this the original or the copy?" the account asked. "Mystery ! That is a point which can only be settled by the experts." The afternoon seemed to pass very slowly. Bourdot went out to see what the Boulevards were saying, and oame back in half an hour with the report that every- 54 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE body was talking of the affair. People were asking was it blague or was it really true? Generally the inclination was to believe the story. "It's warming up," said Antoine with a chuckle. "I wonder what we shall tell the public to-morrow? Events must decide." "Listen! What's that?" said Bourdot suddenly. "They are shouting something on the Boulevard." They opened *a window. Down the broad avenue a number of shabby camelots were tearing, shouting at the top of their voices and waving a fresh edition of the evening papers. The two strained their ears to catch what was being shouted. At last from the hoarse chorus the message came to them : "Disappearance of La Douloureuse from the Louvre!" They looked at each other. "Disappearance!" said Bourdot. "What does that mean." Antoine laughed. "It means, man vieux, that we are being taken seri- ously. The officials have removed the picture to examine it and see if there is anything in our story. But send for a paper quick, and we shall see." Bourdot ran out himself, thinking nothing of dig- nity. He caught a flying camelot, and was back in a twinkling. He spread the paper out on the table. The announcement was very short. In the morning, it said, the famous picture (or its copy) was still there. In the afternoon it had disappeared. The officials of the Louvre, questioned, maintained a discreet silence. At the Ministry of Fine Arts there was no information to be obtained. What could this mean ? Had La Dou- loureuse now been stolen for the first time, or was it simply that M. Binot-Varillon had had the picture removed in order to test what truth there might be in "LA DOULOUREUSE" 55 the report given that morning in La Lumiere? Events would show. In the meantime careful inquiries were being continued. "As I thought," said Antoine gleefully. "But this is a splendid development. Paris will certainly talk about us now." Morissot came in at this moment. People were snatching up the evening papers, he said. The affair was the only subject of conversation in the cafes. "Bravo! It couldn't have gone better!" Antoine rubbed his hands. "Binot-Varillon is taking us seri- ously. Before the evening is out he will be compelled to make an official statement. He will, of course, issue a complete denial of our story. In that case what do we . . ." There came a loud rat-rat on the door. Jean, the doorkeeper from the outer office, entered, a visiting card in 'his hand. He handed the card to Antoine. "This gentleman is waiting in the ante-room, Mon- sieur, and says he desires to see somebody in authority at once." Antoine stared at the card in his hand and without a word passed it on. The others read and saw: [M. Paul Victor Binot-Varillon, Sous-Secretaire d'Etat au Ministere des Beaux-Arts. Bourdot turned a little pale. "Sapristi! The Minister of Fine Arts! What do we say?" "The only thing to do," said Antoine, "is to hear what he has to say first. No doubt he is very annoyed. But we must see him. Jean, show the visitor in." 56 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE III A MOMENT later M. Binot-Varillon entered. A rather portly and extremely distinguished-looking gentleman of any age between fifty and sixty, he carried a shining silk hat in his hand and the rosette of an important decoration in his buttonhole. "Messieurs," he said, and bowed, with a sweep of his ihat, -which included all three. "Permit me, Monsieur le Ministre," said Antoine. He presented his two companions and himself, care- fully assigning to each his proper station in the control of La Lumiere. Then he pushed a chair forward for the distinguished visitor. "Be seated, Monsieur, I pray you," he said in his very best manner. M. Binot-Varillon sat down, placed his hat carefully on his knees, and regarded the three Directors of La Lumiere. Then he spoke: "You are aware, Messieurs, I presume, of the reason of my visit." The three Directors nodded. They were prepared for a torrent of reproach. The Minister spoke again, but his tone was quiet. "May I ask you, Messieurs, what it is you propose to do in the matter?" "To do?" said Antoine, feeling rather helpless. He felt that it was as good a reply as any other. "Exactly. What is the next step you propose to take?" The three Directors exchanged glances. This was awkward. Here was Binot-Varillon asking what was the next step in their campaign. It seemed to take the wind out of the whole scheme, and besides, they didn't know themselves. "LA DOULOUREUSE" 57 "Er, may I ask why you wish to know?" said An- toine at last. "Ma foil Why I wish to know?" For the first time their visitor showed some animation. "And who should wish to know, if I do not ; I am the Under-Secretary for Fine Arts. I must know at once." Antoine passed his hand over his forehead. This was 'bewildering. He looked at his companions, but they did not help him. Did M. Binot-Varillon expect to be admitted on the spot to all the secrets of La Lumiere?" "And you wish to know what we intend to do next?" said Antoine after a further pause. "Precisely." "Then, M. Binot-Varillon, with all respect, I am afraid that is quite impossible." "Evidently," said Bourdot. "Of course," said Morissot. The three directors were firmly agreed on this point. The Under-Secretary for Fine Arts seemed about to become very angry, but controlled 'his emotion. "Listen, Messieurs. I wish to conduct this affair as delicately as possible. But you must see that the atti- tude you are taking up will become, sooner or later, an impossible one. I beg of you, act frankly with me, and all yet may be well. Otherwise . . ." and he spread out his gloved hands with a gesture that might have meant many things. "And what precisely is it you desire?" asked Antoine again. "I desire, Messieurs, in my official capacity as an Under-Secretary of State, to be taken into your com- plete confidence." "Then I can only repeat, Monsieur, that for the present at any rate, it is quite impossible." 58 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "And how long shall I have to wait for your confi- dence ?" "Ah, who can say?" said Antoine, with his pleasant- est smile. But these words had quite an unexpected effect on the Under-Secretary. The custodian of the national treasures jumped to his feet and banged his clenched fist hard on the table in a passion. "Then, Messieurs," he cried, "I must warn you that you are placing yourselves in a very dangerous posi- tion. The most famous picture in the world has been stolen ..." "What!" The cry of 'amazement that came from the three Directors as from one man should have told the Minister something. But he was too agitated him- self to judge aright the meaning of their exclamation. "La Douloureuse has been stolen," repeated the Under-Secretary, now shouting with anger, "and it is you, gentlemen, who have announced the fact to the world. You must know who the thief is. If you persist in shielding him then the State will persist in knowing how far you may share the responsibility of the crime." 'A. tense silence followed this outburst. Antoine, Morissot and Bourdot gazed at each other in stupefac- tion. Their brains were in a whirl. Could this amaz- ing thing be true? La Douloureuse really stolen? But there was M. Binot-Varillon telling them so ! Antoine felt as if he wanted to laugh hysterically. The impos- sible thing he had invented so light-heartedly the night before was swear by him. He has a jolly way with him, and so far he has always been successful. Many of them are delighted at the fright he gave to the King of Bulmania. . . >. Apart from that he loves a good dinner, has a keen eye for the ladies there are THE KING OF PARIS 97 stories of amorous adventures and is fond of the good things of life generally. He enjoys a good laugh and loves to be called the King of Paris." "What is he after?" "Money." "Ah! Listen, Durand. You must cultivate this Merlou. I have a plan. I wish to depose the King of Paris. Leave everything else, and stick to him. You can begin now." "Entendu!" said Durand, and went out, delighted with his mission. Left to himself Antoine tugged his little beard thoughtfully. Money and a gay life! .These ought to be vulnerable points of attack in the man who not only preached industrial revolution, but practiced it on every possible occasion. It was intolerable that such an individual should have Paris at his mercy at any moment he wished. At a moment when a visiting King and Queen were being isoothed by the agitated President, and panic was hover- ing in the vast dark auditorium of the Opera, Merlou was sitting in a little cafe not a hundred yards away, surrounded by half a dozen of his cronies, toasting the coming Revolution in excellent red wine, and playing cards by the light of a plentiful supply of candles thoughtfully provided in advance. So much Paris knew next day, and it made the good bourgeois foam at the mouth. This was going much beyond a joke. So far Authority had seemed powerless. It was feared indeed in the highest circles, that there was a good deal more behind Merlou' s bonhomie and audacity than most people imagined. There 'had been sullen mutterings in the labor world for a long time past. The General Strike was being preached, and Merlou was 'only one of many in the movement, and though the best known to the public was not necessarily the most power- 98 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE fill. It was all very well for Morissot and his kind to rage and fume, but Authority did not quite yet know where to tread. Merlou ordered and his men followed. The consequences of sitting 'heavily on Merlou at this stage might be very serious. But Antoine did not reason like this. His weapons were not to be armed force, but something much more subtle. He had marked down his prey, and hoped that it might be bad for Merlou and good for Paris and La Lumiere. And -what more congenial task could be undertaken by a newspaper which was known to the world as "The Light" than the overthrowing of a man who was constantly plunging his kind into darkness? Ill DUBAND, charged with his high mission, walked blithely along the Boulevard. This was the sort of thing he delighted in. A shocking murder at La Villette, inter- views with the concierge and the lady next door, a de- scription of the room where the tragedy took place that sort of thing was all very well in its way. But this was quite different. It needed talents of no mean order diplomacy, tact und savoir faire and Durand flattered 'himself he had these. And now how to begin. He had read all the morning papers very carefully. The scene of Merlou sitting in Lis favorite cafe, chuckling while Paris groped in the darkness, came into his mind. That might be an excel- lent place to begin. It was lunch time. He would go there. The Cafe-Restaurant 3e 1'Escalier Tournant lay in a quiet side street just off the busy Rue de Lafayette. It was a modest but clean and tidy establishment, and Durand as he pushed open the door found about a dozen THE KING OF PARIS 99 people there, eating lunch with that keen enjoyment and strict attention to the business in hand which is so uni- versal and striking a feature of Paris at the midday hour. He sat down at a vacant table, and gave his order to one of the two waiters. Durand kept his eyes and ears well open. Madame, placid and expressionless as the Sphinx, sat at the cash desk, handing out checks to the waiters, pouring out aperitifs and liqueurs, keeping an unwinking eye on the machinery of an establishment which to her was all that mattered in the world. A portly man, with curled black moustaches, appeared behind the counter and ex- changed a brief word with Madame. The proprietor. He might be well worth cultivating, decided Durand. Now and again from the various people lunching he caught snatches of conversation referring -to the affair of the night before, and Merlou's name was generally greeted with a laugh, although occasionally came an expression of indignation at the idea of what might have happened at the Opera. The door opened and a woman came in. She looked round at the now crowded room, hesitated, and finally came up to Durand's table, at which he was sitting alone. "Vous permettez, Monsieur?" she said. "But certainly, Madame." She sat down with a smile of thanks. She was a handsome woman, in the very early thirties, with dark, fierce eyes. Durand was not long in noticing that she seemed very much on the alert, as if expecting or hoping to see someone she was in search of, and every time the door opened to let in a newcomer she turned sharply round. There was an air of suppressed excite- ment about her which suggested that the meeting might be a stormy one. Durand became interested. 100 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE A chance encounter with the cruet, and conversa- tion was opened. The incidents of the night before were mentioned. "He is an extraordinary man, this Merlou," said Durand. "Extraordinary! He is more than that. He is a rogue, Monsieur." The vehemence of her tones was not lost on him. "You know him possibly, this King of Paris?" "Know him! Alas! I know ham only too well." Her eyes flashed. "I am one of his victims, Monsieur. His path is strewn with many. I am one of the latest. I was told that he might be here to-day. It is to see him, if possible, that I have come." Durand's heart bounded. "Then I gather," he insinuated, "that if I dare to say so in spite of Madame's undoubted charms, he will not be too pleased to see you." She laughed grimly, and Durand decided that she was not a woman to be crossed lightly. "Ma foi, non! He will not be at all pleased to see me. Listen, Monsieur. You are sympathetic. I should like to tell you. My name is Eugenie Vigneau. I am a widow. A few months ago I met this traitor Merlou. He padd instant court to me oh, but he was a fluent rascal ! I am a woman, Monsieur. Que voulez vous? We are to be married. I was to abandon the little dressmaker's business which I had. He told me of his schemes oh, but he can talk dazzingly ! He was to be one of the leaders in a new world. It was he, and such men as he, who would have power and wealth. My head was turned. He painted to me the great place I should occupy with him. I should be Queen of Paris, he said. And then one day I discovered that he had a wife, a weak, timid creature he had THE KING OF PARIS 101 abandoned long ago! I taxed him with it, and he denied it. But he never came again, and he went away owing me three thousand francs, which he had bor- rowed -to finance his wonderful schemes. I waited a week, expecting to see him every day, hoping that after all I had not been deceived. I called at the little hotel where he had been living. He had left. Then I knew that indeed he was a rogue. When the lights went out last night I knew that he was active again. A friend pointed out to me a passage in a newspaper which said that he frequented this cafe. And here I am, hoping to see him. "There, Monsieur, I have told you everything. I do not quite know why: but I expect you to respect my confidence." "Indeed, Madame, you may be sure of that. But what, may I ask, should you do to this Merlou if you saw him?" Her firm mouth tightened into a straight line and Tier eyes flashed dangerously. "I would show him, Monsieur, that he cannot trifle with a woman such as I. I should box his ears soundly in public the more people the better. I should pull his hair, perhaps. He is a coward at heart, this King of Paris I know it. I remember his face when I taxed him with the truth. The smile, the joviality all went. He trembled. . . . And it would not do, Mon- sieur, for this tyrant who has set himself up above Paris to be so treated in public. He would die instantly, of chagrin and ridicule." "True, Madame, I am sure you are right." Durand was thinking furiously, staring before him. As he looked the door opened, and a well-built, jovial, florid man, with carefully trimmed moustache and beard, and hair that curled luxuriantly from beneath a wide felt 102 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE hat, entered the cafe. It was none other than Merlon, and he looked the picture of happiness and self-satis- faction. Fascinated, Durand stared, wondering what would happen next. But at that moment, through the mirrors that paneled the walls, the King of Paris caught sight of Durand's vis-a-vis. Instantly his face changed. The smile fell from it. A touch of pallor crept into the healthy cheeks, and there was alarm in his eye. Abruptly backing out again he closed the door and was gone. "But what is it, Monsieur? You look startled." Durand's new acquaintance turned round swiftly, but too late. The door had just closed again on the alarmed Merlou. "Listen, Madame. If I tell you something important, something startling even, will you give me your promise to keep calm?" "Assuredly. But what is it?" "And you promise not to dash away at once from this table, and leave me here?" "But, Monsieur, quickly ! What can it be ?" "A few moments ago I looked startled, you said. I had cause. Merlou came in at the door. He saw you through the mirrors, his face blanched, and he fled. No, do not jump up! He is far away, already, prob- ably speeding in a taxicab." "But, Mon Dieu, Monsieur, why did you not tell me?" The black eyes of Eugenie gleamed. "I came here to see ham, and you let him go. It is wicked, cruel!" "Calm yourself, Madame, I pray. I did it for the best. I have a better idea than yours. Your revenge shall be even more complete . . . We will talk it over now. Will Madame take a liqueur with her coffee?" THE KING OF PARIS 103 IV ANTOINE was lavish in 'his praise when he received the report of his lieutenant. "Epatant, mon bon Durand," he said, "Here we ih'ave something to work on. This colossus has feet of clay and her name is Eugenie. No doubt there are others, but I think she will serve our purpose. What luck, eh? You could not possibly have done better." "She was very annoyed at first," said Durand, who was extremely pleased with himself. "But I soon brought her round to my point of view. And now she is content to wait, so that his downfall may be all the greater. You have a plan?" "Yes and no. Vaguely I see something coming. Have no fear. We shall have him, in good time. There is no great hurry. No doubt he will show us the way. His head is getting larger and larger. Per- haps he will do something foolish soon. Keep an eye on him. It is a congenial task eh, Durand? Tenez! Try one of these cigars. They are good." And Durand went out to continue his mission, the proudest and happiest young man in Paris. The storm in the Press caused by Merlou's impudent and audacious exploit raged for a few days and then, as is the way with these things, died down. The King of Bulmania and his Queen had departed, and happily no more untoward incidents had marked their visit. Merlou relapsed into quietude, and the affair seemed to be over. Paris forgot all about the scene at the Opera, and was deeply interested in a crime of love and passion which had just occurred in the fashionable quarter of the Etoile. But there were those who mistrusted this apparent 104 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE calm, and indeed seemed to hear beneath it an insistent and sinister rumble of impending trouble. Strikes, small affairs, but straws to show which way the wind was blowing, were breaking out all over Paris, and on the slightest pretexts. The bakers, the builders, the chimney-sweeps, the railway men all men and all trades, even the barbers, were restive. And so was the Government. Morissot knew that. "I tell you," he said to Antoine, "they've got the jumps. That Merlou business frightened them. Sup- pose there had been a catastrophe at the Opera! I know that one or two members of the Cabinet nearly resigned because Merlou was not clapped into prison at once. But the majority persuaded them to stop on. The fat rogue, it seems, has really got a very strong following in all sections of the labor world, and the Government were afraid of what might happen if they dealt with him too strongly. And they are afraid of making him too important. Mon Dieu, what men! . . . You saw my article this morning?" "Did I not!" "You thought it too strong?" Antoine laughed. "Mon cher Morissot, we hardly expect milk and water from you." "Admirable! Milk and water cafe au lait. There is too much of it elsewhere, eh? We want strong bev- erages. It would do our Cabinet Ministers good to take a course of cognac and sulphuric acid. What do you say?" "But why, since you supply it for them every morn- ing in La Lumiere?" "True!" said Morissot, and went away chuckling. He came back a moment later. THE KING OF PARIS 105 "This man Merlou, I propose to flay him in to- morrow's paper," he announced simply. "No, leave him alone," said Antoine. "I agree with the Government there. Just at present he desires noth- ing better. You would be playing his game. Leave him to me. I have other plans for him." "As you wish. I can find something else. I will go and listen to the debate at the Chamber of Deputies. There will be material enough there, Heaven knows." And Morissot departed to look for political scalps. Bourdot also had his little word to say on the aspect of affairs. "Are things as threatening as they seem?" he asked. "I hardly know," said Antoine. "What do the Duchesses think of it?" Bourdot twirled his moustache. He liked this sort of question. "Frankly, there is some apprehension. I was talk- ing to the Marquise de St. Colombe only yesterday. 'My dear Bourdot,' she said, 'what do you make of the situation? Why is this man Merlou not trans- ported or sent to the guillotine?' Her ideas, of course, are not quite ours. She lives in the ancien regime ... I told her we could hardly do that sort of thing nowadays. 'Ma chere Marquise,' I said, 'you must understand that nowadays the working classes' . . .." The telephone bell rang. "Excuse me," said Antoine . . . "Ah, is that you Durand? Yes, go on . . . Good . . . Yes, it should be interesting. I will meet you there to-night, then, at eleven o'clock." "What is happening?" asked Bourdot. "Another mad escapade. You must be careful, mon cher An- toine. That ardent temperament of yours will lead 106 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE you into trouble yet. No more trials of strength with the police?" Antoine laughed. "Not this time. I have merely set Durand on to watch Merlou these last few days. He is living a very gay life, it seems. I think it will be interesting to see him at it." ! V THE Lapm Saute was one of the most glittering, most expensive and most popular of the Montmartre night resorts. When Antoine and Durand entered it shortly after eleven o'clock the cafe was already well filled, and a number of couples were dancing in the center of the large room to the strains from a red-coated Tsigane orchestra. Antoine secured a table in a corner from which the whole of the room could be seen, and ordered cham- pagne. Champagne was "obligatoire" at the Lapin Saute. "And now tell me all about this mountebank," said Antoine. "What has he been doing?" "Chiefly lunching well, dining well and smoking ex- pensive cigars," said Durand. "But something big is preparing. I managed to strike up an acquaintance with the proprietor of the cafe where I met Eugenie, and he tells me that Merlou is always in the best of tempers when he is contemplating a coup. He had been meeting some of the other labor leaders to-day, nd will bring a little party of them here to-night." "Perhaps it is to fete the coming revolution," said Antoine. The room filled up, and the smoke from cigars and cigarettes hung, a delicate blue mist, in the air. The THE KING OF PARIS 107 orchestra played unceasingly, the dancers swayed to and fro in languorous movements and a dropping fire of popping champagne corks arose. It was just after midnight when a large and hila- rious party came in at the door. At the head of them marched Merlou. Three men and four women came behind him. They were shown to two tables evidently reserved for them. The men were all in evening dress. Merlou wore his with something of an air, but his companions had the awkward look of men so dressed for the first time in their lives. The women were young, good looking and extravagantly dressed. Antoine called the waiter, indicated the new arrivals and asked him if he knew who the ladies were. "They are in the chorus of the Folies Bergere, Monsieur," was the reply. "I have seen them here before but not with the same companions." Merlou's party . In fact, everything," concluded Antoine with a chuckle. THE new blow hit Merlou harder than the first. "It is evident," said La Lumiere, "that the King of Paris cannot enter a cafe without making himself su- premely ridiculous. In one he blunders into a bath of champagne; in another he alarms his friends and the neighborhood by an unexpected and maladroit dis- play of pistol practice. The time is surely not far off when the cafe proprietors of Paris will unite to keep so indelicate a customer off their premises." 120 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE In the same spirit of banter La Lumiere recounted the scene round the table Antoine and Durand had quite enough material to be able to reconstruct it leading up to the quarrel as a result of the criticisms of Merlou's expensive habits in night cafes. But just as interesting to Paris was Merlou's sug- gested way of giving the signal for the General Strike. The light was to be turned off in the evening, and with that was to come a stoppage of everything else the railways, the tramways, the bakeries, and every other activity by which the people lived arid moved and worked. At the signal of the King of Paris the capital and the whole of France was to be immobilized. It wa* a grandiose scheme, worthy of a King. Merlou's name was heard on every hand. There were demonstrations in the streets against him, and some in favor of him. Rival groups came into collision, the police had to intervene and broke heads impartially on both sides. But although he had his partisans, public opinion was heavily against him. A howl went up in the Press that such a man should be in the position to jeopardize the life of Paris and France. Morissot was not alone in flagellating the Government. The Merlou revelations, it was soon apparent, had caused disaffection among the workers. And Antoine received information that there was a very wide split among the leaders, and that half of them at least in- sisted that Merlou should be dropped. Excitement was working up to fever heat. The crisis came when Blondin, the great orator and undisputed leader of intellectual Socialism, lifted his powerful voice against Merlou. "The man Merlou must be thrown aside," he wrote in his paper, the Internationale, an article adorned with THE KING OF PARIS 121 gigantic headlines. . . . "The fight for right and liberty cannot be led by a mountebank. Merlou is a wine-bibber and a farceur. His place is on the music- hall stage, and not in the forum. Let the honest pro- letariat of Paris beware against placing their trust in such a man, who denounces the luxury of the rich and himself squanders the money of the workers in high living." And much. more to the same effect. But Merlou fought best with his back to the wall. He still retained his faithful followers, and he was deternined not to give in without a struggle. It was announced that there would be a monster meeting in the great Hippodrome at Montmartre, and that Merlou would address the workers in his own defense. "The enemies of progress have risen against me," he said, in a high-sounding proclamation which was distributed amongst the members of the syndicates. "Harmless incidents have been magnified and distorted by the paid hirelings of the well-fed classes who are afraid of the power of the men of labor. But Merlou and the Right will prevail." The next day a very interesting piece of news ap- peared in La Lumiere. It was a despatch from its Moscow correspondent, which announced that Princess Alexandrovna Poprikoff, the famous Russian Socialist and revolutionary, was on her way to Paris to take part ,in the great social upheavals which were threatening there. Some interesting biographical details were con- tained in the despatch. Princess Alexandrovna Poprikoff, it was explained, was the beautiful daughter of a Russian prince and a distant connection of the Imperial House of Romanoff. In spite of the great name and the luxury to which she had been born she was an ardent Socialist, and had devoted her life to a THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE study of industrial conditions. Tihis was her first visit to Paris, and La Lumiere hinted that the presence of such a powerful sympathizer at such a time in Paris might have considerable consequences on the general situation. VIII THERE was a feverish touch in the air of Paris on the night of Merlou's great stand against the disaster that threatened him. All the streets that wind up the hill of Montmartre were thronged with people, who were kept constantly on the move by strong bodies of police with their in- sistent command of "Circulez! Circtdez!" In unexpected corners, too, soldiers were drawn up, their rifles piled in little heaps. And up and down the streets rode patrols of mounted guards, the clatter of their horses' hoofs sounding as sweetest music to the good law-abiding bourgeois, who feared that the forces of anarchy were about to break loose. The Government, it was plain, was determined to take no chances and was ready to crush instantly any squabble amongst the ranks of the syndicalists which might threaten to burst out and spread to Paris itself. Here, there and everywhere amongst the police and soldiers was to be seen M. Labiche, the famous Prefect of Police, a small man, insignificant in his dark over- coat and bowler hat, but with his fierce eagle eye con- stantly on the alert for the slightest sign of trouble. In a taxicab that panted up the steep Rue Blanche were seated Antoine, Durand and the Princess Alexandrovna Poprikoff. "Police and soldiers everywhere," said Antoine THE KING OF PARIS 123 gravely, peering through the window. "It looks thrilling. . . . Even Morissot would have to 'admit that the Government is awake to-night." The cab stopped and the door was opened by an agent de police. "You cannot go any further in this. You must walk," he said. Antoine produced his journalist's police pass; Durand another. The policeman noticed the red ribbon in Antoine's buttonhole. "Bien, Messieurs. Pass on. As far -as the Place Pigalle. You must get out there." A few minutes later they found it was impossible to pass any further and had to leave the shelter of the cab. Police were all round them. "Circulez! Circulez!" they commanded, as soon as the three were in the roadway. The Princess, a com- manding figure in a splendid fur coat, took Antoine's arm. All was confusion, with little knots of scared people running here and there to get out of the center of dis- turbance. The three managed to gain a comparatively quiet pavement, behind a line of police. From a street close by came the sound of hooting, and loud cries of anger. The police began to look restive. "This is warming up," said Antoine. Suddenly from the street came the sharp "rap-rap- rap" of an automatic pistol. "There's Citizen Browning speaking," said Durand. "Now we shall see something." A body of cuirassiers appeared from nowhere, passed at a trot and charged down the street. Above the alarming rattle of hoofs came the shouts of the frightened crowd running away. There was pande- THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE monium for a few moments, a few more shots and then quiet. At that moment the Prefect of Police passed close to them. Antoine seized the opportunity, recalled their previous meeting in the affair of La Douloureuse, and asked for facilities to get directly to the place of the meeting. "By all means," said the Prefect courteously, and in the midst of his preoccupations called up a sergeant of police to accompany them. The sergeant conducted them to the stage door, saluted and left. Here they found considerable diffi- culty in passing. A group of men on guard demanded special tickets before they could pass up to the plat- form. Antoine smilingly waved the idea aside. He explained -with great importance who the lady with him was. She had arrived only that day from Moscow, and wished at all costs to be present at this meeting. They were politely asked to wait. One of the men went upstairs and presently came down to say that the princess and her attendants should be shown up at once. They found themselves sitting at the side of a crowded stage, facing a vast audience of over ten thousand men who packed the great building. Merlou was speaking. Antoine watched him fascinated. This man, with all his follies and his rogueries, was a great figure on the platform. He did not know how to behave in a night restaurant, but he had the power of swaying multitudes. There were hostile elements in the great crowd, and now and again there were interruptions, and cries referring to champagne. But like Mark Antony with the Romans, the King of Paris, by his persuasion and elo- quence, was winning the crowd round to his side. There was a pause in his speech. Someone behind him bent forward and whispered something. Merlou THE KING OF PARIS 125 turned to the meeting again. "My friends,'' he said, in his ringing voice, "you will be glad to know that there has just arrived here from Moscow the Princess Alexan- drovna Poprikoff, one of the great ladies of Russia, who has made the cause of the workers her own. I will present her to you. You will know how to welcome her." Way was made for the Princess, a tall, splendid figure, with a ihigh fur collar turned up around her face. As she approached the center of the platform Merlou bowed gallantly and taking her by the hand led her forward. She looked magnificent as she stood there in her long fur coat, and the huge crowd received her with a thunder of acclamation. The noise of the welcome died down. The Princess loosened the collar of 'her coat and made as if to speak. There was perfect quiet. "Citizens of Paris," she said quickly, in a clear voice that carried all over the hall. "I have something im- portant to say to you. I am not a Princess of Russia at all. I am a simple dressmaker of Paris, one of your own sisters. My name is Eugenie Vigneau. Not long ago this man Merlou came and made love to me. He was to marry me, and I was to be Queen of Paris. But he borrowed three thousand francs, and I have never seen him since until this moment. That is what ..." There came a roar of execration from the sea of white faces, and the sea suddenly became agitated as thou- sands of arms shot upwards. Merlou had darted for- ward and, turning the speaker sharply round, looked into the face of Eugenie. His own was suddenly con- torted with pas'sion, and in his rage, half -demented, he raised his clenched fist as if to strike her. At that there came another roar, louder than before, and from 126 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE ten thousand throats execrations and insults were hurled at Merlou. The frenzy of the audience communicated itself to the platform, chairs were overturned, blows were struck and everybody was pushing and struggling desperately. In the midst of the tumult Merlou's voice could be heard rallying his supporters round him. Antoine and Durand pushed their way desperately towards Eugenie. They reach her side, and made themselves her body- guard, while the frenzied people pushed and struggled round them. Merlou caught sight of Antoine. A look of understanding came into his eye. He shouted some- thing that could not be heard, and fought to get at him. Other people were now fighting to get at Merlou. The melee became serious, even dangerous. Antoine re- ceived a blow from somebody, he knew not who. Eugenie was beginning to look pale and distressed. Suddenly a posse of policemen surged in from the back. They thrust into the crowd scientifically, pushed people out willy-nilly through the door, and gradually cleared the platform. A burly form came between Antoine and Eugenie and their aggressors. Antoine had a glimpse of a struggling Merlou being hurried to the door by two stalwart policemen. He breathed more freely, and found himself looking into the face of Inspector Sauvage. "So it appears," said the Inspector smiling, "that the police have their uses, even for you." "Merci," said Antoine. "I shall not forget it." The huge crowd in the hall had watched the unedify- ing spectacle on the platform with the greatest excite- ment. Now that the situation was a little less complicated, someone in the hall shouted: "Three cries of execration for Merlou, the traitor." A tremendous hooting and booing arose. THE KING OF PARIS 127 And then: "Three cries of enthusiasm for Eugenie the Princess." The cheers rolled out, tremendous in volume. Eugenie had to go to the edge of the platform and bow. There was a look of grim exultation in her fierce, fine eyes, and the grim lines of her mouth were relaxed in a smile. "A triumph," cried Antoine into her ear as the uproar went on. "This is the last of the King of Paris." "Yes. But the rogue has still got my three thou- sand francs." "Ah, that is a little matter that must be seen to," said Antoine. IX THE Prefect of Police stood surrounded by a brilliant group of officers. The crowd coming from the meeting was being guided down a long double line of police and soldiers. Once arrived at the end of this armed corridor the men were shepherded away alternately to left and right. All about the neighborhood more police and soldiers kept them on the move, so as to prevent any further concentration. "Circulez, circulez !" the police uttered repeatedly and monotonously. But though some of the more eager spirits among the police looked about hopefully for signs of resistance to their orders there were none to be seen. On the contrary, it might have been a crowd coming out in the happiest of humors from a Palais Royal farce. "C'est extraordinaire," exclaimed the little Prefect, fingering his pointed white beard. "I expected trouble, and here they are all coming out singing and laughing. What can have happened?" 128 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE A cry went up : "Down with Merlou, the traitor!" It was greeted with cheers. Another cry: "Down with the General Strike!" It was followed by a shout with enthusiasm. "So," said the Prefect, his keen eyes glistening with amusement, "than the King of Paris is deposed and his General Strike, too. Well, that is one nuisance the less." He tugged the famous little white beard. "But there will soon be others." CHAPTER IV BLACKMAIL FOR TWO IT is not to be supposed that the triumphant enterprise of La Lumiere in the affair of La Douloureuse and the downfall of Merlou, King of Paris, had excited feelings only of admiration amongst its contemporaries of the Paris press. It is too much to expect of human nature that the success of a young rival should be accepted with unalloyed gladness by those who are convinced that such good fortune belongs by long-established right only to them. But while most of the older newspapers looked on at the growing influence of La Lumiere with an interest which, if quite innocent of benevolence, was not actuated by calculated hostility, there was one journal which had marked it down as a victim to be sacrificed. This was Le Jour, most powerful and, when necessary, most un- scrupulous of all Paris newspapers. More than once before this an upstart rival, preening itself in all the confidence and vigor of impetuous youth, had been swept out of existence by the same implacable agency. Le Jour had great power, and it was a power derived not only from the command of unlimited money. Its influence was felt in a hundred unexpected ways. It had accomplished many praiseworthy things, but this 129 130 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE did not prevent it from doing bad ones when, in the opinion of Le Jour, the case demanded it. It had ex- posed scandals, and had been the cause of others. It had made Governments and wrecked them. Statesmen and financiers were in its power. It knew the secrete of many men. When the time came for one such to be useful, Le Jour summoned him, and made known its terms. It rarely failed to get what it wanted, for the strongest man could not hope to stand against a cam- paign, insidious or open, waged against him in a news- paper which sold by the million. M. Alexandre Tardivel, who was at the head of this powerful organization, had guided the destinies of Le Jour for the past twenty-five years. A small and alert man of sixty-five, he was the soul of courtesy, and a charming individual to meet. He was a well-known art connoisseur, and his domestic life was irreproachable. But where the affairs of Le Jour were concerned he was swayed by one consideration only the welfare, as he conceived it, of his journal. In this cause he could be hard as steel, as ruthless as a Prussian. For the well- being of Le Jour he would have sacrificed his dearest friend. His interest in La Lumiere was first keenly awak- ened when that newspaper gave exclusively to the world the story of the theft of the most famous picture of all time. He was not long in discovering that the guiding spirit of this enterprising contemporary was one Antoine Poiret, an individual until then hardly heard of on the Boulevards. To M. Alexandre Tardivel it was a cause for the bit- terest mortification that Le Jour should have been so completely outclassed in the affair of La Douloureuse. His irritation knew no bounds when La Lumiere re- peated its success in the crushing of Merlou, the red-hot BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 131 syndicalist, who at one time seemed to have all Paris under his thumb. And from that time M. Tardivel determined that both La Lumiere and its guiding genius, Antoine Poiret, must be swiftly accounted for. M. Tardivel was not long in finding something to work upon. That private office of his round which so many legends, authentic and fantastic, had clustered (its walls were said to be made of steel, with a sliding steel door, which M. Tardivel could close by pressing a button under his desk) was a sounding-board for all Paris. There was no whisper of the Boulevards that did not find its echo there. Blackmail is an ugly word. But none knew better than M. Tardivel what a powerful lever it could be. A cynic, he believed that every man had something in his life which he was desirous of concealing from the world. And in the case of Antoine Poiret he soon found what he believed would suit his purpose to perfection. II ANTOINE was sitting at his desk one morning, studying a report made by his advertisement manager, when Bourdot entered hurriedly. "Read this," said the confidant of Duchesses abruptly. Antoine saw that Bourdot had marked a paragraph in the "Notes of the Day" of Le Jour. . ; . . It was a very short paragraph. Antoine took the paper and read: "A little-known adventure is that which some time ago befell the Director of one of our younger contemporaries. With commendable wisdom he provided himself with somebody else's money, and proceeding to Monte Carlo tried his fortune at the 132 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE tables. His luck was of the best, and it is from this fortunate episode that dates all his success. It is so rare for anybody to leave Monte Carlo with a good deal more than he took there that the story deserves some day to be told in full." Antoine stared hard at the paragraph, and reread it carefully. "You know what that means," said Bourdot breath- lessly. "You see what is behind it?" "Do you think it means . . . ?" "Absolutely. Le Jour has got its eye on us. We have been doing too well." Antoine was very quiet. "You are convinced that I am the one aimed at in this?" "Who else can it be? Of course it is you." "Yes, I suppose it is so. It was a little unfor- tunate, that Monte Carlo affair. And yet, just as this paragraph says, all our good fortune dates from it yours and Morissot's, as well as mine. And you know, mon cher Bourdot, how innocent were my motives how little I intended that anybody should suffer from my little experience at the tables. "Mon cher ami, of course I know. Do not speak of it. And does not La Lumiere owe its success to you?" said Bourdot warmly. "The point now is, what do you think of this little development?" Antoine jumped from his seat and paced the floor in agitation. "I think with you that I am the one aimed at. And we know well enough that Le Jour would not publish a paragraph such as that without there being a good deal more behind it. What does it say, 'The story deserves some day to be told in full.' That is plain enough. We BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 133 have caused jealousy, eh, mon ami! La Lumiere has been making itself felt too much. I knew that our successes had been talked about. But I did not expect anything like this. . . . It is that animal Tardivel, I suppose. He sits there in his office like a spider. And he cannot tolerate that we, the little Lumiere, should have done things which he and his big bully of a paper have not been able to do. To think that such a man exists at this time of day ! He belongs to the Middle Ages." "And what do you think his object is?" He knew well enough, but wanted to see how much Antoine realized it. "Why, to crush us, tout simplement or to crush me, anyhow. He has searched for our weakest spot. He thinks he has found it. This little announcement is the declaration of war. W r e shall soon hear more." They were silent for a space, both thinking hard. It was no light matter to find Le Jour suddenly declared as an enemy. "Courage, mon ami," said Bourdot cheerfully. "La Lumiere is not dead yet. You are not a man to be beaten too easily. And we will stick to you to the end." "Merci," said Antoine a little huskily. Antoine heard more even sooner than he had expected. That very afternoon a letter came from Le Jour pray- ing M. Antoine Poiret to be good enough, if he could spare the time, to call the next day at three o'clock to discuss a business matter of some importance. The letter was signed "A. Tardivel," and assured M. Poiret of his most cordial and distinguished consideration. A little council of war consisting of Antoine, Bourdot and Morissot was held on it. 134 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "The villain, how I wish he were just a politician," said Morissot; "I would annihilate him." But this was not a case for Morissot's vitriolic pen. It was unanimously decided that Antoine should politely accept the "invitation." There was no way out. "I shall listen quietly to all he has to say," said Antoine. "No doubt the ruffian will be very polite. . . Then we shall know where we stand. We do not give in without a struggle. Is it not so, my friends ?" They shook hands solemnly all round. Ill THE palatial offices of Le Jour stood in a quiet side street just off the main Boulevard. Antoinc's heart was beating a little more quickly than usual as he entered the busy doorway. A uniformed porter took his card, and entered the name up carefully in a book. Antoine could see by the celerity with which his card was despatched on its journey that special instructions had been given to see that he was immediately attended to. It was an example of the organization of Le Jour. Antoine smiled as he thought of the careless and happy methods of his own office. . . . And yet those methods, or lack of them, had accomplished some very satisfactory things. He cheered up at the thought. A moment later he was traversing interminable cor- ridors behind a guide, who presently knocked at a door and opened it. Antoine found himself in a large and noble apartment with handsome furniture. The thick carpet felt BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 135 luxurious to the feet; the walls were lined with book- shelves and cabinets. A small, white-haired man, sitting at a very large desk, rose at his entrance. Antoine walked forward. "I am very happy to make your acquaintance, Monsieur Poiret," said the little man pleasantly. "It is always agreeable to meet one's rivals in that great profession to which we bath have the honor to belong. Will you pray be seated." "You are extremely kind," said Antoine, and took the chair offered him. "Will you smoke?" M. Tardivel held forward a box of excellent cigars. Antoine took one willingly. It would soothe his nerves. M. Tardivel also took a cigar, and began to talk of things in general. His voice was low and pleasant, he had a quick and happy smile, and his observations on matters of mutual interest to them were spirited and amusing. In ten minutes Antoine felt that he had known M. Tardivel for a very long time. ... It required an effort for him to realize what really lay behind this attractive prelude. This was not at all what he had expected. "By the way," said M. Tardivel without the slightest change or tone or manner, "did you notice with any particular interest a small paragraph in our 'Notes of the Day' yesterday?" He smiled gently, as though he were listening attentively to a good story. "Sapristi, what a man !" was Antoine's thought. His answer came quickly. "No. I usually read the excellent notes of Le Jour but I did not see anything which interested me more than usual." "Not a few lines referring to an incident at Monte Carlo?" 136 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE Antoine shook his head. "Ah! Then you have no idea of the nature of the business I wish to discuss with you." "Not the slightest, Monsieur." "Oh well, it can soon be explained," said M. Tardivel affably. He was leaning back in his chair, enjoying his cigar with zest. "I believe it is a fact that you hold a controlling interest in La Lumiere. I wish to possess myself of your shares." "But I do not wish to sell, Monsieur." "Possibly not. But I wish to have them just as much as you wish to keep them. The point, Monsieur Poiret, is which one of us will prevail?" And M. Tardivel's eyes twinkled with good humor. "But this is extraordinary," said Antoine, assuming an expression of amazement. "As I said, I have no desire to sell them. . . . But that apart, what should you propose to pay for them." "One hundred thousand francs," said M. Tardivel, calmly. Antoine laughed. "But you are joking. That is certainly not a fifth of their value. . . . Your proposition is a little fan- tastic, M. Tardivel." "I never joke in matters of business. Would you be good enough to read the paragraph which I have already referred to." He passed over a little slip pasted on a sheet of paper. Antoine read the paragraph, as if for the first time, puzzling his brows over it. "I am afraid this mystifies me more than ever," he said. "Ah! Then let me be a little more explicit." M. Tardivel crossed the room to one of the cabinets, took out a long drawer and brought it back to his desk. BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 137 Antoine noted that the drawer was filled with scores of envelopes arranged alphabetically. Running his finger down M. Tardivel pulled up an envelope. This action dislodged the one next to it, which remained sticking up above the rest. Antoine noticed a name on it. "Baron Nicolas de Plex." "Tiens, has he got him there also, then!" Antoine murmured to himself. He felt that he was in good company to be next to a leading member of one of the most famous financial houses in the world. M. Tardivel, sitting down, spoke again. "I have in this envelope the record of a certain ad- venture. It is in some ways an 'amusing and sym- pathetic story. It tells at some length how the cashier and business manager of a certain establishment a newspaper office to be precise proceeded to Monte Carlo with a considerable sum of money, which 'he there risked at the tables and curiously enough, with the happiest results. I have had some small experience of Monte Carlo myself, but I was never fortunate. How- ever, the point of the story I am briefly outlining to you is this that the money taken to Monte Carlo by the person in question was not his own." M. Tardivel puffed tranquilly for a moment at his cigar. "The money belonged to a certain financier of the second order a certain Leblanc who is I believe still in prison, awaiting the moment when a leisurely judicature shall have sufficiently unraveled his affairs to know precisely what to charge him with. Ours it a wonderful country, is it not, M. Poiret?" "Truly," said Antoine. "To resume. The fact that this Leblanc whose money was er borrowed for the Monte Carlo enter- prise proved to be a person of indifferent repute now most happily in the hands of the law this fact, I say, 138 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE while it imparts a certain element of humor into the affair it is always agreeable to hear of the biter being bit does not in any way absolve the person who, to use a euphemism, borrows the money which was not his own. The culpability of that person remains undis- turbed. I trust my point is clear." "It might have been put a little clearer," said Antoine audaciously, "but I think I see what you mean." "Then I think that is all that is necessary," M. Tardivel resumed, in the same level pleasant voice, "although, of course, I could state the matter more bluntly if I wished. But I abhor bluntness, M. Poiret. We are a polite nation. . . . But as I was saying, the culpability of this person is not lessened by the fact that this Leblanc proved to be a dishonest financier. In short, the person I am referring to stole the money for his own purposes. That is the point we must not lose sight of. Since the incidents I have described occurred the individual we are discussing has made great strides in his career. He has, in fact, been a startling success. The enterprise which he controls has made wonderful progress. Not to labor the point, then, Monsieur Poiret, you will see how inconvenient it would be for him if a journal with the influence and circulation of Le Jour decided that this unfortunate little adventure of his should be published to the world." "Parfaitement." "Now, Monsieur Poiret, may I ask you whether you were already familiar with the story I have outlined to you ?" "With one somewhat similar but not quite the same. At any rate the story does not bear the same complexion as the one you have been at such pains to describe." BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 139 M. Tardivel's eyes twinkled. "I see. But the world in these matters, as you know, judges harshly. And now, Monsieur Poiret, a further and, I trust, a final question. Do you now see any reason why you should accept the business proposal I made to you just now?" "None," said Antoine shortly. "Ah!" M. Tardivel's eyebrows went up. For the first time during their interview his mask of geniality seemed a trifle disturbed. He leaned back in his chair and resumed the enjoyment of his cigar. As for Antoine he felt that he could fall on this suave Jittle monster and tear him to bits. As he sat in his chair his face was white, and his fingers clenched and unclenched with passion. This genial polite villainy, this polished and choicely worded exposition of a cynical plan to cause his ruin, had been too much. It was his rage that had given him courage to defy a man who he knew had the power to break him. M. Tardivel spoke again: "I am, if I may say so without offense, an older man than you, Monsieur Poiret. I have had considerable experience in this sort of thing, and I feel convinced that after you have thought the matter over quietly you will see as I do. I will give you a week, no more, to think it over. If I do not hear from you within that time it will be my painful duty to take the measures I have suggested. "Then that is all," said Antoine harshly. "For the present, Monsieur Poiret." "Then I bid you good day," said Antoine, rising and turning on his heel. "Good day, Monsieur Poiret," came the polite tones of M. Tardivel behind him. The door opened as he reached it. Outside the man 140 ,THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE who had conducted him there stood waiting. Antoine followed him out of the building, his brain a whirl of anger. He gasped with relief as he stood in the free air of the Boulevard again. But what was to be done? What chance had he of checkmating this powerful and unscrupulous little man? IV BARON NICHOLAS DE PLEX was one of the best-known figures in Parisian society. He took an active interest in the great international banking house to which he belonged, but this did not prevent him from making the most of life in many other directions. It was generally understood that he saw very little of the Baroness, but wherever the fashionable world was gathered there the Baron was to be found. He was as well known at Cowes as at Deauville; his steam yacht was a welcome visitor at Monte Carlo, his racing stable was one of the finest in France, and from winter sports at St. Moritz to "finding the Lady" on Epsom Downs and tarpon fishing off Florida there was little he had not done. He spoke all the languages of Europe, and was said to pride himself on his perfect Rumanian accent. In Paris he possessed a large mansion near the Pare Monceau, but his favorite residence was what he called his "bachelor's den" a most commodious and luxurious flat on the Champs Elysees. It was famous for its ex- cellent supper parties, and the Baron was never so happy as when presiding over one of these entertain- ments. A man of an open and generous mind he cared little as to who his guests might be, provided they washed and were interesting. Poets, actresses, Cabinet Ministers, successful jockeys, financiers, and even mem- BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 141 bers of Society sat happily together under their generous host, who possessed the great gift of making everybody appreciate everybody else so long as he was present. One of his most successful soirees had been when amongst the many guests at his table he had the most famous matador in Spain, the heavyweight boxing champion of the world and the Public Executioner of France, who charmed everybody by his gentlemanly and unassuming bearing. On this particular evening of Antoine's visit to Le Jour, the Baron was at his flat putting on the dress clothes which his valet had laid out for him. He felt a little dissatisfied as he had nothing to do after dinner, and to a man of the Baron's temperament there was nothing quite so dreadful. There was a knock at the door of his dressing-room and the valet entered with a card. The Baron read "M. Antoine Poiret, Director of La Lumiere." "He says, Monsieur le Baron, that the affair is one of importance. He seems to be in a state of some ex- citement," ventured the valet. "Let him wait in the smoking-room. I shall be there in a few minutes," said the Baron. A few moments later the Baron, impressive in his per- fect evening dress, greeted his visitor, who he noticed seemed pale and worried. "What can I do for you, Monsieur Poiret?" he said politely. "I am sorry to disturb you, Monsieur le Baron, and I trust it is not an inconvenient hour," said Antoine. "I 'have been trying to find you for some hours past. I have been to your offices, to your house, to the Jockey Club . . ." "It sounds urgent, your business," said the Baron, smiling. 142 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "It is urgent and peculiar. I wish to consult you on a very curious matter. What I have to tell you will require some little explanation. I trust you will have time to listen to me." "But what is the nature of this affair?" "It concerns M. Tardivel of Le Jour, myself and to a certain extent, yourself. . . . " Antoine spoke hurriedly and with feeling. "I am the victim of an odious conspiracy which vitally concerns my own career and that of the paper which I control. I have come to you decided, if you will permit it, to impart a certain confidence to you in the hope that you may be able to advise me in a very difficult situation." "You intrigue me, Monsieur Poiret. This sounds almost exciting. > . ( . How long will it take you to tell me?" "Half an hour, perhaps. How much longer depends on whether you think you may be able to interest your- self in the matter." "Half an hour is a, long time, and I begin to feel that it is near dinner time. . . . But I have an idea. Will you dine with me, and then we can talk over the matter at leisure." "It is most kind of you . . . but I am not dressed." "That does not matter. If you wish we will take a private room somewhere. I have nothing to do this evening. No doubt your story will save me from bore- dom. My car is waiting down at the door. Come." And Antoine for the first time since his interview with M. Tardivel began to feel that fortune had not deserted him. The drive down the Champs Elysees in the Baron's luxurious laudaulette soothed him. They stopped at a well-known cafe in the Rue Royale, and in a twinkling as it seemed to Antoine they were sitting in a cosy BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 143 cabinet particulier with a deferential maitre d'hotel taking the Baron's order. They chatted about all sorts of matters during din- ner. It was not until coffee and cigars were before them that the Baron signified his desire to hear Antoine's story. "And now for your revelations," he said. Antoine smiled. "They are perhaps not so sensational as all that, Monsieur le Baron. But in two words the idea is to ruin the paper I direct, and incidentally myself. You have heard of Alexandre Tardivel, I presume." The Baron laughed. "Have I not." "And you no doubt know something of his methods ?" "A little." "Then perhaps you will be able to understand already something of this affair. But with your permission I will begin at the beginning and tell you everything. I have to make a little confession of my own, but I know how implicitly I can trust you in regard to my own email affairs." The Baron inclined his head to the compliment, and Antoine began his story. He told of the Monte Carlo adventure, the happy ending to it, the subsequent growth of La Lumiere, and something of his own share in that success, ending up with his interview with M. Tardivel. The Baron listened with the keenest interest. "It is a pretty idea," he said when Antoine had finished. "What an ingenious and implacable scoundrel Tardivel is. But there is one thing you said when I first saw you this evening which I do not yet understand. You said that I also was to some extent concerned in this. I do not yet see where I enter." "That is simple," said Antoine. "You and I, if I 144 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE may say so, are in a sense together in this affair. Neighbors I might almost say. That was why I thought of coming to you. The next envelope to mine in M. Tardivel's drawer of secret documents was marked with your name." "The devil it was!" The Baron sat up straight in his chair. "Yes. I was fortunate enough to be able to notice that. When I left him, after his odious proposal, my brain was on fire with anger and distress. I felt power- less in the hands of this merciless man. But as I walked away from the office of Le Jour your name came into my head. The idea I trust you will pardon the thought that my little story and something concerning yourself were lying side by side in that sinister cabinet made me feel that perhaps you would listen to my story, and perhaps help me if you could. I jumped into a taxi to go in search of you. And that is all." The Baron smiled thoughtfully as he knocked the ash off his cigar. "And so I am in the box too. I wonder what for." He passed his hand over his forehead. "I am nearly fifty years of age, Monsieur Poiret. I have lived a life that has been full 'of incident, even excitement. I have perhaps been a little too assiduous in the search for pleasure and naturally I have not always found it. But all the same I cannot remember ever having done any man, or woman, any great harm. I wonder what it is that he can be holding over my head. I would give much to know." "Perhaps some day, when he thinks you might be useful to him, he will acquaint you with it." "Very likely. That is the Tardivel system. And I assure you I should enjoy the interview thoroughly. I am already torn with curiosity to know what he has in BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 145 the envelope that bears my name, and I think I should be ready to agree to any terms in advance to find out now what form his threat would take. . . . However, that must wait. And now about your affair. He has given you a week's grace. If at the end of that time you do not fall in with his suggestion he attacks you and La Lumiere. Now tell me, how exactly did you think I might be able to help you?" "Ma foi, my ideas were rather vague. But one thing I did think of. It is M. Tardivel's motto in life that every man is vulnerable somewhere. Every man has something in his life which he desires to keep secret, is I believe his way of putting it. It occurred to me then, that perhaps M. Tardivel himself might have a vulner- able spot. But how to find out? I know so little about him. Then I thought of you. You know so many people, have so much power and influence. It was a desperate hope. I have no right to expect that you would be willing to see it as I do. But if there is a way of checkmating this medieval plotter I thought you would be the man to show me." "That is a sound idea of yours to look for the vulnerable spot in the man who believes that every other man is vulnerable somewhere. But I also know very little about him. . . . But stay a moment. Has not Tardivel a son, Gaston, a young man about twenty- three?" "I believe he has." "I heard about something only the other day in which that name cropped up something disreputable too. A card scandal at one of the clubs. . . . It is very possible that it would be Tardivel's son. A young man with rather a lively reputation all round I believe. . . . Now if it were so, and the father really had a very weak spot in his son? Would that suit you, M. Poiret?" 146 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "But splendidly! I felt somehow you would be able to help," cried Antoine, his face lighting up with sudden excitement and hope. "If there is really anything in that I should hold a far stronger card over that bad old man than he holds over me. I have no wish to hurt the son but my first thought must be to protect my- self, my paper, my confreres. And I do not think this old scoundrel would go on with his scheme of ruining me if I could show him that, just for once, two could play at his game." "You would be perfectly justified," said the Baron. "Perhaps this affair of the son may help you perhaps not. But it is certainly worth trying. Why not be- 'come active at once?" "There is nothing that would please me better. I shall never be able to thank you enough." "I think I know where we might be able to find him at once. How long would it take you to dress and return here ? My car is still available." "Three-quarters of an hour." "Good. Then I will wait here until you return." V ANTOINE some time before this had moved from his modest quarters in Montmartre and taken a small but handsome flat in the new Boulevard Raspail. In the Baron's luxurious car he arrived there in less than ten minutes and at once rang up the office. Morissot answered, and Antoine gave him a hurried outline of what had happened between him and Tardivel, passing on to his interview with the Baron. "It sounds promising," said Morissot. "I have heard of that young man. I believe he is quite a source of worry to his dear old father. Stick to it. It may save BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 147 us. And don't forget, we leave it entirely to you. Bonne chance!" Antoine dressed swiftly, surveyed himself in the glass with satisfaction, and was back with the Baron in less than the time he had allowed himself. "There is no hurry," said the Baron. "Our young man is not likely to be seen too early in the evening. I will dismiss the car and we will stroll up the Boulevards at our leisure." They picked their way along the crowded pavements and several times the Baron was saluted with much empressement by distinguished looking gentlemen whom they passed. Antoine felt that it was good to be in such company. The cloud that had been hanging over him all day had lifted. There was something about the Baron that inspired confidence and security. With such an ally things would surely come out all right. They continued their walk down the Avenue de I'Opera and here the Baron turned into a doorway which Antoine knew was that of the "Cercle de 1'Armee," one of the most exclusive clubs in Paris. The Baron spoke to a porter, who said something in reply in a very low voice. "This is getting quite interesting," said the Baron as they walked into the club. "Young Tardivel is no longer a member here. The little scandal I mentioned was investigated by the Committee a few days ago, and as a result it was intimated to him that his presence here was no longer required." Antoine whistled happily. "What a piece of luck I trust, Baron, you do not mind my so regarding it. I have never met this young man, and I confess I should be delighted to hear that he was as big a blackguard openly as his infamous father is in another fashion. To be turned out of the 148 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE Cercle de 1'Armec it is already a good deal. Tardivel pere would not be pleased this evening to know that I knew that. I wonder if he knows it himself?" They were sitting now in the smoke-room. A very old waiter, his head shiny and round as a billiard ball, stood near. "You see the waiter there, old Pierre," said the Baron. "He has a genius for knowing everything about every member here and a good many other things too. I think it might be as well to have a discreet word with him." He signaled to Pierre, and ordered two liqueurs. When the old man returned with them the Baron encouraged him to talk. Pierre, much flattered, availed himself of the chance, and led up adroitly to the subject of the Baron's racing stable, hoping to pick up some valuable crumbs of information. "One of these days, Pierre, when I know it, I will tell you something good," said the Baron. "As a rule I am the last man to hear anything really interesting about my own horses. But, by the way, where is young Tardivel who used to be here so much?" Pierre spread out his hands with a gesture that might have meant anything. "Monsieur le Baron has not heard? He left here ,. . . suddenly. Only >a few days ago. There was a little . . . discussion ... in the card room, and Monsieur Tardivel was judged to be in the wrong . > >, He plays high, that young man." "Ah, and so he has left. And where does he exercise his talents now?" "Not very far from here, or so I believe, Monsieur le Baron. There has been a new tripot opened in the Rue Helder a most cine place I am told. So far the police do not seem to have heard anything about it BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 149 or at any rate they have not paid it a visit. And M. Tardivel I believe passes a good deal of his time there. Number 91 Rue Holder. The second floor." "Thank you, Pierre," laughed the Baron. There was no mistaking the way in which the waiter had in- sisted on the address. "But I don't propose to go there." And the old man went off with a profound bow. The Baron looked at Antoine. "A new and luxurious tripot! It recalls the mis- spent years of my youth. I haven't been inside a gambling den at least the kind that is frowned on by the law for a very long time. M. Poiret do you feel adventurous ?" Antoine's eyes twinkled. "I should desire nothing better." They walked back slowly up the Avenue, and shortly arrived at 91 Rue Helder. "It seems innocent enough," said the Baron, looking up at the building. "But we will try the second floor." After ascending two flights of a broad carpeted staircase they found themselves outside a door which seemed all innocence. The Baron pressed the bell, the door opened and a man in the livery of a valet de pied appeared. Without speaking a word the Baron stepped inside. The man looked at them. "You are not members, Messieurs. But," and he bowed to the Baron. "I once had the honor to be in the household of Monsieur le Baron." He hesitated, not quite knowing what to say. . . . "No doubt it will be all right. En tout cas, with Monsieur le Baron it will be a simple formality without the slightest diffi- culty. The vestaire is here." And he relieved them of their hats and coats. 150 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE The Baron smiled as the footman preceded them into the rooms. "It was easier than I thought." "It is one of the advantages of being known to all the world," said Antoine. "It has its drawbacks," replied the Baron. Leading them through an elegantly furnished ante- room, fitted with lounges and little tables for smokers, the footman opened a large door and the two stepped into another room, of much larger size and brilliantly lighted. Their entry caused no attention. In the center of the room was a crowd of some scores of people, gathered round a large table. The scene brought Monte Carlo back to Antoine in a flash. The people were of just the same kind as those he had seen crowd- ing round the tables there. The two joined the crowd and looked over the shoul- ders of the people in front. There was a good deal of money on the green cloth. "Baccarat," whispered the Baron. "And the young man who is holding the bank is, if I mistake not, our young friend." "I can see his sainted father in every line of his face," said Antoine. "Luck does not seem to be going too well with him." It was soon evident that the play was high. Tardivel, a pale young man with short spiky hair that met in a point in the center of his forehead, was frowning darkly. Evidently he was losing, and quite as surely he did not like it. The croupier's voice rang out monotonously, and Antoine thought of his feverish visit to Monte Carlo. Curious that his own gamble with fate should be so closely linked up with this young man's unhappy ex- perience at the gaming tables. He began to feel almost BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 151 sorry for young Tardivel, for the strained look on his face showed how much he was feeling his ill luck. There was another shuffling of the money on the cloth, and the two notes and the few pieces of gold that still re- mained before the son of his enemy were swept up. The young man rose suddenly from his chair and left the table. He walked to a buffet that stood at one end of the room and pouring out a large dose of cognac into a glass drank it off at a gulp. He .stood there looking at the crowd that still surrounded the table with an ex- pression of profound chagrin on his face. "I should say that in his present mood that young man is capable of anything," observed the Baron. After a moment the young man, his face still dis- torted with anger and vexation, moved slowly towards the door. He paused there irresolute and looked back at the crowd gathered round the table, then passed out. "I would give anything to follow him," exclaimed Antoine. "It might mean everything." The Baron plucked his moustache thoughtfully. "So be it," he said. "I see no reason why the ad- venture should not be allowed to continue." Tardivel was just getting his coat and hat as they came out of the gaming room. They waited until the door had closed on him. The Baron gave a gold piece to the footman, who thanked him profusely, and ap- peared with their coats and hats in a twinkling. He opened the door to let them out only a few seconds after Tardivel had descended the staircase. As they gained the street they noticed three taxicabs drawn up in line before the door. A man in civilian dress stood surrounded by half a dozen policemen, to whom he was saying something in a low voice. "A raid, mon ami," whispered the Baron. "I am 152 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE decidedly pleased that you suggested that moment for leaving. There are some things that need too much explanation." VI "THERE is our man, just turning into the Boulevard," said Antoine. "Quick, before we lose him in the crowd." They hastened their steps. It was the hour when the theatres were closing, and the broad pavement was thronged with people. They caught sight of their quarry in the crowd, and to keep securely in touch with him it was necessary to follow at only a few yards' distance. "It is the first time I have played detective," laughed the Baron. "I am indebted to you for a new sensation." Tardivel walked along at a moderate pace, his head down, his hands thrust deep into his pockets. He crossed the Place de 1'Opera, and a little further down the Boulevard turned into a side street and stopped outside tihe Theatre des Italiens. The Italiens was one of the smallest and smartest theatres in Paris. As young Tardivel reached it the lights at the front went out. He remained standing there for a few moments, looked at his watch, and then suddenly disappeared into a narrow passage that ran by the side of the theatre. "That leads up to the stage door," said Antoine. "Cherches la femme, eh? I am afraid our adventure does not venture too well. It is sufficiently banal that a young man of his type should go and wait at a stage door." The Baron's voice was not enthusiastic. They were standing on the opposite side of the street. Antoine too felt a little discouraged. After all, he BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 153 could not expect an important personage like the Baron to wander vaguely all night round Paris at the heels of a dissolute young man. But then it might mean everything to him. It might save him, his colleagues, the paper. It was the only chance he had. "Do not let us give up yet," he urged. "Think of that old spider sitting in his office at this moment with my fate in his hands with documents relating to your- self, containing Heaven knows what. Stay here but one moment and I will go and pick up a taxicab. We can watch more comfortably in that, and it may be as well to have one ready." "Agreed," said the Baron, and took out a cigar. Antoine walked rapidly to the boulevard and in a mo- ment returned inside a taxi. The Baron entered, and they sat there smoking in the darkness of the cab. Five minutes went, and to pass the time the Baron began to relate a curious adventure that had befallen him when exploring the Bowery district of New York. Antoine, who was looking out of the window, inter- rupted him : "There he is again. . . . And surely the Lady with him is La Belle Yolande !" "La Belle Yolande!" exclaimed the Baron with sud- den interest. "That would explain a lot." He leaned forward and looked out. "Yes it is indeed she. And so that is why young Tardivel tries so desperately to make money. Ah me! What fools these young men are. I "wonder how many moths have singed their wings at that brilliant candle. And she has been burn- ing quite a long time now." The two, standing under the light of a street lamp, could be seen very plainly. The young man was ob- viously pleading, but there was a hard look on the face 154. THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE of the famous beauty. They moved across the street towards the cab, talking rapidly, and the two men inside sat back in its shadows. "I assure you," they heard Tardivel say, "I have tried every possible means. My father was like a stone. When I mentioned twenty thousand francs he laughed. And I've tried other ways, desperate ways. You've no idea what I've done." His voice was shaking with earnestness and anxiety. "That is all the same to me," replied the beauty in calm, level tones. "My dear friend, you know how badly I need the money just now. What then is the use of coming to tell me that you have not found it? Naturally you have tried. But if you have not suc- ceeded it is of no use to me, is it?" And she laughed, a maddening, rippling laugh. "But Yolande, ma bien aimee." The young man's voice was almost tearful now. "Be generous. You must not let it finish like this. I will try again. Give me another two days, another day. I will do it some- how, no matter what the cost. Give me the chance to try again." "Ecoutez, mon ami. This is getting tiresome." Her swift cold words cut into his pleading like a whip lash. "Twenty thousand francs is not a very large sum. I have asked for ten times as much before now, and re- ceived it. And then, I did not ask for your attentions. You sought me out. I am sick of it all. If you love me so desperately, that is your affair. As for me, you bore me. Is that clear? If so please call me a cab." "Ah!" There came a gasp from the young man. "And that is what you say when I cannot do what you want. I who have been in a fever for days past trying to get this money. I who have cheated at cards, who have been disgraced . . . " BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 155 "Imbecile! Did I ask you to cheat at cards, did I ask you to disgrace yourself!" The voice of the beau- tiful Yolande was intense with anger and irritation. "And now you come here like a schoolboy crying about your misfortunes. Ah, zut! If you only knew how I detest the sight of you." Her final tone was delib- erately coarse and insulting. "Miserable one," came the voice of young Tardivel, in a hoarse shout. "You shall pay for your heartless- ness." And in the startled ears of the two listeners in the cab there rang the report of a pistol, .and a shriek from Yolande. The two were galvanized into instant activity. Antoine leaped out of the cab, with the Baron after him. On the ground lay Yolande. Antoine looked round quickly and saw the figure of the young man flying away down the quiet street. He bent over the prostrate woman. Her face was very pale, but she was still breathing. "Where is she hit?" asked the Baron. "I cannot tell. . . ,. She is at any rate not dead." "We shall have the police and the crowd here at any moment. . . . Look, people are running up already. I think, my friend, it will be wiser for both of us if we know nothing whatever of this affair." He spoke in a low tone so that the chauffeur should not hear. "As you wish," said Antoine. He felt shaken by this tragic turn to the quarrel. A moment before the street had been deserted, but now scores of people were hurrying down from the direc- tion of the Boulevard. Amongst them Antoine noticed a policeman. As he came up the policeman shot a quick glance at Antoine and the Baron before kneeling down at the side 156 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE of the woman. The crowd closed round the group, pant- ing with excitement. The policeman stood up again. "This woman has been shot," he announced with ex- traordinary wisdom. "I heard the report of a firearm. Do you gentlemen know anything about it ?" He spoke respectfully but firmly. "We were sitting waiting here in this cab," said Antoine. "We heard the sound of a discussion between two people, and then the shot. When we jumped out the woman was lying here and a man was running away up the street there. You know the rest." "We must take her to the nearest pharmacie. And you, Messieurs, must accompany me there. Please help me with her into the cab." With some little difficulty and to the great excitement of the crowd this was done. The Baron thanked his stars that nobody called out his name. He did not seem to have been recognized. The policeman sat holding Yolande, and just as the cab started away she stirred and gave a sign. The nearest chemist's shop open at that time was in the Rue Lafayette. They arrived there in a few minutes, and Yolande was carried into the shop by the policeman and the chauffeur. The matter was explained at once to the chemist who directed that she should be laid on a couch in the farther corner of the room. Round this he placed a screen and proceeded immediately to make an examination of the victim. They waited there in the shop, while another crowd gathered outside. Antoine felt anxious and disturbed. This was an unfortunate business, not at all what he had expected. It spoiled his scheme too. Tardivel the young miscreant ! would be arrested and the whole affair would be public property. The counter attack BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 157 he hoped to employ against the father was thus at once rendered ineffective. The Baron was sitting on a chair, looking down at the floor. It was impossible to gather what he was thinking, but Antoine wondered whether he regretted his entry into that night's adventure. Suddenly the chemist appeared from behind the screen. "The lady is not touched anywhere," he announced. "Her assailant missed. She fainted from shock. A little restorative, and she will be all right." He mixed something in a glass and disappeared behind the screen again. Antoine felt a tremendous relief. That lightened the business a good deal. He exchanged glances with the Baron whose face also was suddenly brighter. The policeman, who had been looking exceedingly grave, seemed if anything a trifle disappointed. After an interval the chemist reappeared and said that the lady was now in a fit state to answer questions. The policeman, with an air of great importance, went behind the screen. They heard him ask for particulars of the affair, and as to who her assailant was. "That I cannot tell you," came the voice of Yolande, now very quiet and gentle. "I do not know who he was. It was a strange young man I cannot remem- ber his face. He came and asked me for money. I told him I had none. He threatened me. I told him to go away. Then I heard a shot and I remembered no more." Antoine and the Baron looked at each other in amaze- ment. It was a trait in the character of La Belle Yolande they would not have suspected. Why should she shield him in this fashion? Antoine dwelt on the problem, while the voice of Yolande and 158 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE the policeman still came from behind the screen. The truth came into his head in a flash. . . . But, of course, that was it. Even La Belle Yolande could not suffer the odium of such a story. A young man ruins himself, cheats at cards, in order to find her money and then because he has not been successful, she sends him away with every mark of disdain. No wonder she had made the swift decision to keep quiet. Why in such a case a Paris jury would sympathize openly with ' the young man. He would be instantly acquitted, amid warm expressions of sympathy. But again, if La Belle Yolande kept quiet, then the story would be Antoine's, to use as he wished. The weapon he had looked for to use against Tardivel pere was still in his hands, and, as a result of the -shot, had become more powerful than ever he could have hoped. The policeman came out from behind the screen, his notebook open in his hand. "Messieurs, I shall require your names and addresses, in case there are developments of any kind." "You understand that we are really quite strangers to the affair, and have no desire to be mixed up in it in any way," said the Baron. "All the same, Monsieur, it will be necessary." The Baron handed over his card. The policeman was much impressed as he read it, and became voluble on the spot. "It is most unlikely, Monsieur le Baron, that you will be troubled further in any way. The lady has no idea as to who the man was or so she says. At any rate, she seems quite disinclined to pursue the matter. I shall see her to her residence, as is my duty, and there I have little doubt the matter will end." "If you wish you may use the taxicab that is now at the door," said the Baron. "And here is something for BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 159 the fare. ... I trust the lady will soon be quite well again." The policeman saluted most smartly, and did not 'bother Antoine for his name. They pushed out through the crowd, explained the situation to the chauf- feur, on whom the Baron bestowed a liberal tip, and walked away down the street. "Pouf! I am glad that is over," exclaimed the Baron. "And now what do you think of the situation. Is it good or bad?" "But excellent." And Antoine began to explain. "Pardon for one moment," interrupted the Baron. He looked at his watch. "One o'clock. After all that excitement I think we have earned our supper. Let us go to Maxim's, and we can talk it over there." VII THE attack on La Belle Yolande caused a considerable sensation in Paris. The accounts of it that appeared in the newspapers varied in a remarkable degree. This was due to the fact that the victim obstinately refused to be interviewed, and so the newspapers were driven to making the best they could out of very little material. By keeping quiet, indeed, La Belle Yolande received a far bigger reclame than anything she might have achieved by deliberate self-advertisement. One or two newspapers, making a shrewd guess, boldly asserted that the aftentat had been made by a discarded admirer. Others stuck to the story that she had been the victim of a prowling apache, who had been bold enoug'h to carry out his nefarious work in the immediate vicinity of the Boulevards. 160 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE Antoine chuckled to see that Le Jour was one of the newspapers which inclined to the theory that the out- rage was due to some admirer, young or old, suffering from the pangs of jealous or unrequited love. It showed conclusively that Tardivel pere was a stranger to his son's liaison. The shock when he heard the truth would therefore be all the greater. And one result of Yolande's singular wish to avoid publicity extraordinary indeed in the case of a popu- lar revue "star" was that Paris had a keen desire to know what was behind this little affair, and who really was the man. The public was always interested in La Belle Yolande, and this was much more palpitating than the mere periodical disappearance of her jewels. All this mystery and interest strengthened Antoine's hand, and it was with a feeling of high confidence that he wrote a letter to M. Tardivel, asking politely that he might see him on the day following. In the meantime he had been anything but idle. At the earliest possible moment he had put Durand on the track of young Tardivel. Twenty-four hours later Durand sent a telegram from Geneva. It said in a spontaneous and amusing cypher which Antoine had no difficulty in understanding, that the quarry was staying there at a small hotel under the name of Law- rence and that, until further orders, wherever he went Durand would follow him. M. Tardivel's courteous reply to Antoine's letter was received within a few hours. So that on the afternoon following Antoine once more found himself sitting near M. Tardivel's big desk, and smoking another of his excellent cigars. M. Tardivel was as urbane and good humored as before. Again Antoine felt a certain difficulty in real- izing what sinister impulses lay behind that smooth BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 161 manner. But that disappeared the moment M. Tardivel dropped generalities and, in his own peculiar fashion, came down to business. "I am glad to see that you decided to see me again before the week was up," he said with his friendly smile. "I presume, M. Poiret, that you have seen your way to fall in with my suggestion?" "On the contrary." Antoine's confident tone, as much as the matter of what he said, caused M. Tardivel considerable aston- ishment. "Then do I understand that you wish me to proceed at once to extremes?" His tone was slightly acid. The iron hand was peeping out rather soon. "That is as you wish. But if you do I am sure you will be very sorry for it. May I ask you if you read 'The Notes of the Day' in La Lumiere yester- day? I see you did not. Then perhaps you will cast your >eyes over this paragraph?" And before the as- tonished eyes of the powerful director of Le Jour An- toine placed a few lines of print neatly pasted on to a piece of paper. The joke of having his own methods applied to him did not seem to strike M. Tardivel as amusing. Then he looked at the paragraph and read: "The truth that lies behind the mysterious at- tack on a certain well-known actress of the lighter stage would startle Paris could it but know the full story. And especially would it disturb a notable Boulevard personality whose cynical ex- ploitation of other people's private affairs seems to close his eyes to the fact that errors may be committed very near home." There was a steely glitter in M. Tardivel's eyes as 162 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE he looked at Antoine. His mouth was hard set, and the mask of good humor had disappeared completely. "I fail to see what connection this has with me," he said harshly. "It has a very intimate and personal connection with you," said Antoine easily. "And without em- ploying your own elegant rhodomontade I will give you an outline of the story that lies behind the mys- tery of La Belle Yolande. It concerns your son. For some time past he has been infatuated with this siren. He could not obtain sufficient money from you for her needs. In order to acquire this money he cheated at cards and was expelled ignominiously from one of the best clubs in Paris. As another desperate measure he frequented gambling 'hells and lost there whatever money remained to him. Infuriated by the reproaches and the attitude of La Belle Yolande he shot at her how he managed to miss I don't know. But I do know several people who were witnesses of the affair. He has fled Paris you probably know that he has disap- peared and at the present moment I have a trusted friend watching his hiding place. Those are the main facts behind the mystery of the attack on La Belle Yolande ... I hope they interest you. They would certainly interest the police." Antoine spoke slowly and incisively. The change that came over his antagonist's face as he proceeded was startling. As M. Tardivel had so often smilingly asserted, every man was vulnerable somewhere. And the cynical old scoundrel had his own weak spot. He knew his son was a scapegrace, but he loved him. The revelation he knew it was true as he listened to Antoine overwhelmed him. The blow went home with crushing force. By the time Antoine had finished M. Tardivel's face BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 163 was pale and haggard. Gone was every trace of that smiling self-confidence, that jaunty but ruthless power which had so angered and appalled Antoine at their first meeting. Suddenly he dropped his head down and covered his face with his hand. "Mon pauvre Gaston mon pauvre petit Gaston" Antoine heard him murmur. Antoine's triumph was complete. But he found it in his heart to be sorry for the old man who for the first time in his life had felt the heavy hand of another, and that through his son. Then M. Tardivel, with a supreme effort, pulled himself together and walked to his private cabinet. He drew from it the drawer Antoine had seen before, brought it back to his desk, and took out the envelope bearing Antoine's name, and without a word handed it over. "One moment," said Antoine, and reaching over he deftly abstracted the packet that lay next to it and placed it in his pocket. "I wish to return this to the person it concerns." M. Tardivel looked dumbly at him, but did not move. Then an audacious idea came to Antoine. Be- hind M. Tardivel's big desk a bright fire was burning in an open grate. Swiftly picking up the whole drawer he ran across to the fire and with one twist emptied out that store of unhappy secrets the stealthy records of men who at some time in their lives had stepped aside for a moment from the straight and narrow path. There came a strangled cry from M. Tardivel. As 'Antoine faced him again the frantic man made a rush for the fireplace, but Antoine held him back firmly. And together they watched the bonfire. Antoine stirred it with his foot, so that the flames licked up again with a rush. 164s THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "See all those unhappy secrets escaping up the chim- ney," he said. "Your son's goes with them. . . . And there is a maxim for life, M. Tardivel, which I like better than yours. It is very bourgeois and simple live and let live. I trust you will be able to adopt it." And picking up his hat Antoine went out. VII The same evening he sat again with the Baron at dinner. The Baron was holding some faded yellow letters in his hand. "And to think," he said, "that this was the secret he was holding over my head this little episode of youth. I was about the same age as young Tardivel then. And she well she was as beautiful and cruel as La Belle Yolande more so. But I did not shoot her. No! I threatened to shoot myself. I wrote the most impassioned, the most desperate, the most wildly im- ploring letters that youth ever penned. It is all down here, in faded black and white. I read them an hour ago, and I was amazed. Enfin, I was very young." The Baron looked at his glass for a moment, and seemed to be following the bubbles that were rising in the golden wine. "I was quite sure that I should never get over it then . . . But Time has its compensations. I had forgotten most of that episode, but the letters have brought it all back. I would not part with them for anything now. Bless that dear and sinister old man for preserving them . . . Some years later, by the way, she married the manager of a second-class touring company. I believe she now looks after the wardrobe BLACKMAIL FOR TWO 165 at a small theatre in Marseilles . . . Ah me! Qtielle chienne de vie!" Antoine was silent. The Baron looked at his glass again, and this time emptied it. "I assure you, mon cher Poiret, life becomes much more amusing as you get old. You must come to my next supper." CHAPTER Y THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TAETAEIN THE Directors of La Lumiere sat in council. "II n'y a pas a dire," said Antoine. "The paper is dull. It is true that all the others just now are also dull. But cannot we find something out of the common? Morissot, will politics give us nothing?" "Bah !" exclaimed Morissot. "There is nothing more to write about. I have attacked this Cabinet until I am sick. They have not even the energy to lose their tempers. I have heaped odium on them and they do not respond. One cannot fight with a jelly fish ... It is disheartening." Antoine's eyes twinkled. "And yet less than a month ago you forced a Min- ister to resign his portfolio." "True but he was a poor thing. He ought never to have been even in this Cabinet." Antoine fingered his little pointed beard. "And you, Bourdot. Does the world of Society give us nothing out of the common? Are there no scan- dals?" "But little, I fear. It is the dull season. There is a duel coming off shortly between the Comte de Chan- clair and the husband of a lady to whom he has been paying the warmest attentions." 166 THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 167 "Oh, but the Count makes a hobby of duels of that kind." "True . : . . There is nothing else that I know of." "It is incredible Paris without a scandal. Can it be, Morissot, that your campaign for national purity 'has at last taken effect and that life henceforth is to be perfectly good, but quite dull?" "Heaven forbid!" said Morissot. "There is of course the old scandal of the streets," said Bourdot. "It is always with us, but it is getting even worse. You have seen the huge hole they are now digging in front of the Opera? They are erecting cranes, steam boilers, Heaven knows what, and all this in the busiest and most prominent crossing in Paris. The traffic there ties itself into knots and cannot get out again. Yesterday in a cab it took me twelve min- utes to cross the road there." "True, it is villainous," put in Morissot. "The Place de la Concorde looks like Switzerland. Paris ought to lay itself out to attract those English people who go mountaineering. It is the same all over the city ditches and holes, boilers and palisades, cliffs and ravines. My own street has been 'up' for five months, and nobody knows why. No work is ever done there." Morissot was rapidly working himself up into a passion. "Occasionally I see a workman eating his dinner, and that is all. He has a nice comfortable shed to live in, and a fire to keep him warm. Perhaps he will never shift, and I shall never be able to get a cab to my door. If he decides to stop in my street for- ever, who is there to prevent him? Answer me that!" Antoine shook with laughter at Morissot's rapidly mounting indignation. "Tiens, but that is a droll idea a workman stop- ping there in his little house forever a sort of hermit 168 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE of the streets. It would be a jolly life. I should like it." "But it is really no joke," Morissot went on. "Somebody drives two stakes into the ground, throws a rope across a street, puts up a notice 'Rue Barree* and there you are. Nobody knows why it is barred. Vegetables might grow on the pavement, rabbits might disport themselves in the road and it would not be sur- prising. And so the inhabitants remain for months, even years, cut off from the rest of humanity by a notice board in the daytime and a red lamp at night. And this is going on all over Paris." Allowing for a certain exaggeration which was natural to him, Morissot's description of the streets of Paris was a fairly accurate one. For the past year or so a sort of street rash seemed to have broken out in the city. Everywhere were to be found excavations and heaps of rubbish, with ugly palisading and often huge chantiers, or sheds, in which the workmen con- ducted their operations. Many of these were tucked away in side streets, where nobody but those immedi- ately concerned noticed them. But others were erected in the busiest or even most beautiful spots in Paris, and tourists who had come from afar to see La Ville Lumiere gazed at famous buildings through a haze of steam and smoke from puffing boilers. Latterly the plague had got worse than ever. Streets were ripped up, relaid, ripped up again and left. No doubt there was some reason behind most of these disembowelings and eruptions, but it was hard to find. The Press had kept up a running fire of sar- casm, but this had produced no effect. It needed something very drastic to bring the City Fathers to their senses. So far this had not been done. "If we could only hit on a really good idea to bring THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 169 out the ridiculous side of this, Paris would be really grateful," said Antoine after some further conversa- tion. "The difficulty is to focus general attention on a plague which everybody is more or less getting used to." He stroked his little beard and thought hard, a far- away look in his eyes. Suddenly his features wrinkled up in a merry smile. A chuckle escaped him, and then he leaned back in his chair, his hands to his sides, and laughed long and heartily at the idea that had come to him. "You have evidently struck something good," said Morissot when Antoine's merriment had subsided. "What is it? We are impatient to hear." "It is a beautiful idea," chuckled Antoine, wiping ihis eyes. "Listen. ..." But another laugh bubbled up, and he relapsed into his secret joy again. "del!" cried Bourdot. "What is all this about? Quick ! We cannot sit here looking on while you enj oy it all alone." "Patience, my friends. You shall know as soon as I can tell you," and, his words interrupted by chuckles of merriment, Antoine very briefly outlined his plan. "Superb! But it is a stroke of genius," cried Bour- dot when they had heard it. "Oh, how my Duchesses will laugh. I shall have to tell the story again and again. They will point out how this sort of thing can only happen under a Republic. And won't the poor suffering public enjoy it!" Morissot in his different way was also enthusiastic. And Antoine was still emitting little trills of laughter as they went out to lunch to talk the matter over more fully. 170 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE II "THE point is to choose a really suitable street," said Antoine over the coffee. "It must be of good tone, quiet, and yet in the heart of the town. And not too long. We must not immobilize a whole quarter of Paris. I will take a little walk this afternoon and find the thing we want." "But it must be a street which will cause a consid- erable dislocation of traffic by being closed," said Morissot. "Else these animals of City Councillors will not see the point." "Exactly. The only difficulty I foresee is in getting the workmen necessary to build the chantier, and in making them think they really are working for the Municipal Council. However, that can be overcome. Perhaps they would appreciate the joke." Bourdot laughed into his coffee. "Et puis?" "And then Lemaire comes into it. The shed once finished, all complete, with a good north light, I shall wire him to say that I have a splendid studio in Paris at my disposal, and that if he likes to come and use it he may. Of course, he will fly back like the wind. He is dying to see Paris again." "By the way, what became of that strange being after the affair of La Douloureuse?" inquired Morissot. "You told us you were looking after him, but you did not say how." "Lemaire is strange, as you say, but he is a good fellow. He agreed to put himself in my hands. I sent him down to Brittany to sketch and paint to his heart's content. He lives at a little pension in charge of an excellent woman I know. His board is paid for THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 171 him, and I allow him ten francs pocket money and half a bottle of absinthe a week. A doctor who saw him said that it was better not to try and break him from the habit altogether. I have had the best reports of him. He does not even drink his half bottle now, and is much better in every way. . . > But he is pining for Paris." "And you think he will do what you want?" "Do it ! He is all on fire to serve me. More than that, the idea will appeal to him. He will dance with joy. To live in a commodious studio in the middle of a Paris street a studio with a beautiful big north light, and with every convenience to live there calmly and peacefully, far from the noise of traffic and yet with the Boulevards only a moment away oh, but he will regard it as Heaven. He will paint as he has never painted before. Since the dawn of time no artist will have had such a studio . . > and by the beard of the President, he shall paint a picture for the Salon. That is an idea! He has talent, voyez vous. He has exhibited there several times. . . . And will not that tickle Paris a picture painted for the Salon in a street chantier erected by La Lumiere! Oh, we will make these ancient City Fathers sit up . . > and in the meantime we will run a hot campaign on the disgrace- ful eruptions of the streets. We will point out that it is open to anybody to put up a board or a red lamp, build a hut and make a street his own. . . . Oh, but we will have some fun with them. Wait until Paris hears the story." "They may send us all to jail for it," said Morissot. "It will be worth it. We shall be martyrs. You will have a statue, Morissot." "With an inscription: 'He was the foe of Cabinet Ministers and all other scoundrels,' " said Bourdot. 172 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "If the studio is to be as comfortable as you say, I shall write some of my political articles there," said Morissot. "And I will invite some of my Duchesses to tea," added Bourdot. And the three Directors went on laughing and joking ia the very best of good humors. Antoine went off alone on his quest for a suitable site for the studio. He found exactly what he wanted in the Rue Tartarin, a short but dignified street run- ning off the luxurious and populous Rue Royale. It was thus in the heart of Paris, and in the very best quarter. The Rue Tartarin contained some excellent shops, and also a very well-known restaurant, Boulanger's, famous for oysters. "It could not be better," said Antoine to himself, as he strolled along. "Boulanger will be furious every client will have to get out and walk. But he will know it is no use protesting. One must expect this sort of thing in Paris. And if Lemaire is fond of oysters he could not be better placed." He laughed so heartily to himself that people turned round to look at him. Antoine sauntered back to the office to report on his choice. "It is daring," said Bourdot, thinking of the stream of cabs and motor cars that rolled up to Boulanger's every evening. "Ah, bah! We must have the best," said Antoine. "Is La Lumiere to be content with a small back street? Ten thousand times no! This affair to succeed must be chic. I thought for a moment of taking the Rue de la Paix. But I am afraid that even in Paris we should be discovered before the studio was more than half built. The shopkeepers there would raise such a howl that somebody would have to take notice of them." "Antoine Poiret, stealer of streets," murmured Morissot. "It will sound well in the Assize Court." "We should make a very attractive trio in the dock," said Antoine. "But nobody would dare to prosecute. It would be funnier than any farce ever seen at the Palais Royal" III THE building of the studio proved to be a more deli- cate matter to arrange than Antoine had imagined. A number of tentative efforts showed him that he would have to walk very warily indeed. The scheme would collapse at the beginning if the slightest wind of the enterprise got abroad. Chance favored him when it seemed as though the most careful and discreet strategy must fail. A cer- tain individual named Grosjean, a building contractor in a small way, had recently taken up the question o the lack of accommodation for the housing of the working classes. He had received a number of fami- lies under his protection, and with a following of horny-handed toilers, their wives, a plentiful supply of young children and a small supply of furniture, had started out on various pilgrimages round Paris to find shelter for his brood. The adventures of Monsieur Grosjean, who was an excellent man at heart, if a little peculiar in his meth- ods of propaganda, had been many and various. He had taken possession of empty houses, and been ejected from them by the police at the instance of outraged landlords. On one cold winter's night, with a follow- ing of about forty, of all ages, he had boldly invaded a police station. The police were taken completely by surprise, and once in the cozy interior, with his charges grouped round a cheery stove, Grosjean had dared the police to turn them out into the street. After a great deal of heated argument, in which Grosjean came off anything but second best, the police officials surren- dred to the extent of allowing the Grosjean family to stop there the night. And on another occasion a kind- hearted Duke, meeting the Grosjean procession in a street off the Faubourg St. Germain, had given all of them food and shelter for the night in his commodious mansion and provided their leader with a sum of money to help in his campaign. The idea of invoking the aid of Grosjean came to Antoine as a happy flash of inspiration. He immedi- ately sent out Durand, investigator of crimes and mys- teries, and ambassador extraordinary in many delicate affairs of La Lumiere, to get in touch with this prac- tical but embarrassing philanthropist. Durand returned with Grosjean within two hours, and Antoine was soon deep in conversation with the vis- itor. Grosjean was a portly little man, with eyes that twinkled with kindliness and good humor. But it was quite evident that he was immensely serious on the subject nearest his heart. "You and I, Monsieur Grosjean, are in a sense brothers, if I may say so," began Antoine. "We are both fighting against the stupidity and short-sighted- ness of officialdom. The bureaucrat and the jack-in- office, swathed in red tape, are our common enemies." The eyes of the visitor lit up with joy at the sound of these splendid and inspiring phrases. "Alas, that there are so few like us, Monsieur. You cannot conceive the difficulties with which I have to *. THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 175 contend. Would you believe that only two days ago a landlord denounced me as a cunning rascal and a dan- gerous person I, whose sole wish is to provide happi- ness for others. And this simply because I was just about to take possession of a house that was empty!" "C'est incroyable! M. Grosjean, I am convinced that you are the man to help me in a certain scheme which will make all Parisians happier." And as briefly as possible Antoine described the work he wanted done. "It is against the law," said Grosjean, when he had heard. "But surely you are the last person to care for that ! You take possession of houses which belong to rapa- cious landlords. May I not for a little time take pos- session of a street which is free to all?" "True. As for me I care little for the law. What- ever they do to me will only advertise my cause. But tell me, Monsieur how will your scheme 'help our fellow-men?" "Parbleu! It will make Paris a happier city, and that is what we are both striving for, is it not? You in one way, I in another. I will admit that of the two your cause is the grander, the more noble. But I also in my humble way wish to do good. We are both enemies of the same scourge. The lack of care and foresight, which makes it necessary for you to search for lodgings for your proteges is responsible also for this plague of eruptions and excavations in our streets, for this ceaseless ravaging of peaceful and in- offensive thoroughfares. The money which is spent on causing the one evil could be far better spent on abol- ishing the other. Is it not so?" "But evidently, Monsieur. You state the case most eloquently and convincingly." "Then if you do this work for me you shall be paid 176 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE half in advance; you shall be guaranteed against any legal expenses that may follow, and in addition you shall have two thousand francs for the cause you have so much at heart. Is it agreed, M. Grosjean?" "It is agreed, and willingly, Monsieur. You are most generous. ... I will not hide from you the fact that of late my business has considerably suffered. This work comes at a most convenient moment." "Then there is nothing to do but to start at once. In my name you will take possession of the Rue Tar- tarin at the earliest possible moment. You will under- stand, M. Grosjean, that discretion is vital. But a little audacity, also, works wonders. It is the first step that counts." "And what is that?" "At one end of the street you drive in two stakes, stretch a rope across and hang on it a board with the legend, 'Rue Barree.' That is a sacred phrase in Paris. Nobody questions it, not even the President of the Re- public. At the other end of the street you do the same. From that moment the street is ours, and we may go on with the work in all tranquillity." "It is enough, Monsieur. You shall have drawings and an estimate for the building this very evening. And I will be discretion itself. Perhaps it will be as well for me not to appear too prominently in the matter. Many of the police know me only too well by now. But I have an excellent foreman, who will go on with the work with every confidence. He will be quite under the impression that it is being done for the City of Paris." "C'est parfait, M. Grosjean." "Aii 'voir et merci, Monsieur." And the kindly pro- tector of the poor hurried off to put the work into execution, his eyes agleam with excitement. THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 177 IV THE chief danger of discovery in the building of the studio lay in the rapidity with which M. Grosjean had the work pushed on. The shopkeepers of the Rue Tartarin were intensely disgusted when they found that they, too, were to be victims of the rage for excavation. But they were agreeably surprised at the celerity with which the work, in its early stages at any rate, was carried out. It was generally agreed that a new spirit seemed to have come into civic enterprise. Within a few hours after seeing Antoine, M. Gros- jean had staked out his claim. Most artistically he, at the same time, had a few square yards of wood blocks pulled up, and a brasier planted near the heap of debris. It was a scene to satisfy the expert, a spot at once sacred to authority. Nobody from that moment would have dreamed of interfering with the course of operations. Within a week the studio was finished. It was an unassuming but solid structure of wood. It was divided into two apartments one half as a living room for Lemaire and the other as his studio. This latter was provided with a splendid window, and no artist could desire more comfortable quarters. At various times the Directors of La Lumiere passed down the Rue Tartarin, and noted with much satisfaction the encouraging progress of the work. And in the meantime Antoine made full arrangements for Lemaire's occupation. He collected a camp bed, a small stove, a lamp, a number of chairs and various other necessary articles of furniture. Lemaire came back to Paris, joyful at his release from exile. His eye was clear and his color 178 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE healthy. He was not the same man whom Antoine had first seen bowed down by the weight of his secret pos- session of La Douloureuse and ravaged by his over- indulgence in absinthe. Lemaire roared with delight when he heard what was required of him. "Ah, non, mats c*est admirable! I will paint the pic- ture of my life there. . . . And fancy living within one minute of the Boulevards after the silence, the mel- ancholy of Brittany! But I promise you I shall be happy." "Then get your things together your easel and whatever other little affairs you will require. I have collected some furniture for you. Here is the key of the studio. You are free of one of the most desirable residences in Paris. And you will move in to-night." "An hour's preparation and I am ready." "There are one or two little points to be mentioned. You will have to see to the red lamps at night two at each end of the street. And it will be well not to be seen too much in the daytime. When you do come out you must wear the rough clothes of a workman. You will be able to keep a suit of clothes elsewhere to change into, when you wish to go about Paris. . . . You do not mind this, mon ami?" "Not in the slightest. . . . It is part of the fun. And do I not owe you more than I can repay?" "Allans, done! That is nothing. . . . Then you move into your new residence to-night at midnight or a little after when all is quiet. Your things can be packed on a handcart. I have a man who will take them. If the matter is done swiftly and with confi- dence no suspicion will be excited. And once in posses- sion you will be able to go on painting your picture without fear of interruption." THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 179 Shortly after midnight Antoine and Bourdot walked down the Boulevard at a discreet distance behind a handcart piled high with the furniture of the new home. A man hired for the occasion pulled the cart, and by his side walked Lemaire, dressed in rough clothes The handcart turned into the Rue Tartarin. Le- maire and the man bent to pass beneath the rope that barred the street, and a moment later Lemaire was fitting the key into the lock of his dwelling. A police- man 'halting at the corner stood to look for a moment at what was happening, and passed on. The unloading of the furniture took only a few minutes. The man came away with the handcart, and a moment or so later Antoine and Bourdot saw the glimmer of a light through the studio window. "He is installed," said Antoine. "It is a pity we cannot have a housewarming," said Bourdot. They walked casually down the pavement past the studio and could hear Lemaire busying himself inside. He was whistling a cheerful tune to himself. It was Mimi's song from "La Boheme." "That will never do," said Antoine. "The intelli- gent pedestrian who passed here at midnight and heard snatches of grand opera from a chantier would be curious immediately. It is hardly the sort of thing one expects from a night watchman. . . . I will tell him." Antoine after a careful look round stepped to the door and rapped. The door opened and Lemaire's head appeared. "Tiens, c*est vousf Are you coming in?" "No, mon ami. But softly with that whistling. Do you realize that 'La Boheme' is hardly the sort of music that a workman would indulge in? Remember the part you are playing." "I am so excited I could sing aloud. The smell of Paris again, at night ah, it is wonderful!" "It is a charming thought, mon ami, but you must contain your transports. Remember discretion is necessary." "You are right. I will be on my guard. . . . You are sure you will not come in?" Lemaire seemed most anxious to play the host in his new residence. "Not to-night. Another time. And do not forget the lamps. . . . Bonne nuit." "Bonne nuit." And Lemaire closed his door. Antoine chuckled as he rejoined Bourdot. "Is it not absurd! There is Lemaire settling down for tbe night in his habitation, like any good citizen. One can fancy him marrying and buying a piano, and bringing up a family in the Rue Tartarin. It will be a good joke if it is not spoiled. And now, do we go soberly home to bed or shall we celebrate Lemaire's homecoming by having some supper?" "Supper is an excellent idea. We cannot do better than go over the way to Boulanger's. It will be some slight atonement for the trouble our scheme will cause him." They found the main room well filled with people supping after the theatre. They ordered their own meal and discussed the people present. Most of them were known to Bourdot and he was kept busy exchang- ing bows and smiles. Boulanger himself came up to say a word to them. He inquired solicitously as to the supper and the wine. And then: "You see that the Rue Tartarin is now beleaguered cut off from the rest of Paris. You have seen this THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 181 structure before my very door? In a week or two there will be no doubt a yawning cavern. Is it not in- famous that Paris should be so torn about?" They agreed earnestly that he was right. "It is you, Messieurs, who ought to stop all this. Only the Press can do it. Otherwise there will soon not be a street to walk in." "We are doing our best," said Antoine. "Have you not seen that nearly every day La Lumiere has some- thing to say on the subject? . . . And one of these days Paris will hear something which will be a sur- prise, I promise you." "Ah! excellent. And the sooner the better." And Boulanger departed, well pleased. "Tiens, look who comes here," said Bourdot a mo- ment later. It was none other than the Baron Pex, Antoine's companion in the little adventure of Monsieur Tardivel. The Baron looked slowly round the room, seemed dis- appointed at not finding somebody for whom he was seeking and sat down alone at a table. In doing so he caught sight of Antoine, and saluted cordially. Antoine went over at once to shake hands. Antoine suggested early that the Baron should join them. He consented readily. They sat there till late. The Baron was in a happy mood and talked very entertainingly. More wine had been brought, and as he sipped it Antoine's heart warmed strongly to the Baron. What an excellent friend he had been in that little affair of blackmail! There came a moment when, hardly conscious at first of what he was saying, Antoine told the Baron of the little surprise he was preparing for Paris. The Baron listened with laughing amazement, and roared with delight at the story. 182 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "And this Lenaire, he is there now in that building I noticed as I came in?" "He took possession only an hour or so ago. By now, I trust, he is sleeping peacefully in his bed." "Name of a name, it is the best thing I have heard for years." And the Baron laughed again, until the tears came to his eyes. "But there will be trouble some day. Let us hope the authorities will see the fun of it as keenly as I do. The picture will cause a sensation at the Salon if it is ever finished." They parted shortly after, and the Baron prayed Antoine to keep him in touch with the developments of the plot. "Was it wise to tell the Baron, do you think?" asked Bourdot a few moments later as they were rolling along in a taxicab. "Oh, but he is quite safe. You heard him say that he would not mention it to anybody. . . . And think how much we owe to him in that little affair with old Tardivel. But for the Baron, mon ami, you and I would have long ago seen the last of La Lumiere." "True. But the Baron enjoyed the joke so much. . . . It is very hard to keep a really good joke to oneself." BOURDOT'S remark, as it proved, was almost uncannily wise. The Baron cherished quite a warm feeling for Antoine and the paper which he had been instrumental in saving. He was also a man of honor. But while he would have locked the secret of a scandal or a crime in his breast as within a casket of steel the joke of the Rue Tartarin proved too much for his self-control. THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 183 The next day he told it under the strictest reserve of secrecy to his friend Count Giro de Bonauvent, complete with artist, camp bed, picture for the Salon and the rest. And before the afternoon was out Count Giro found that his secret tortured him so much that he must, for the sake of his own peace of mind, impart it to the Marquis de Rochenoir, enjoining him at the same time to keep the strictest privacy in the matter. And so within a week, to the accompaniment of a chorus of laughter, the story traveled all round the inner and most exclusive circle of le Tout Paris. It gained immeasurably as it traveled. A perfectly appointed bathroom was added to Lemaire's household amenities, his humble furniture became the rarest Louis Quinze, and as for his painting it was understood that a bevy of beautiful models sat for him every day from ten to four, reclining luxuriously on tiger-skin rugs. And as the delirious history passed from mouth to mouth, the scene of this remarkable adventure, as un- accountably happens in these cases, flitted about from one place to another. In its highly improved form the story at last reached the ears of Monsieur Labiche, Prefect of Police. There was very little in the way of gossip or scandal which did not come to his ears sooner or later. The secret police of Paris had its "agents" in every quarter, and in every possible walk of life. They were actuated by all sorts of motives, and only a small proportion of them desired money for their services. And many an indiscreet chatterer in an old-world salon would have been amazed to know that his amusing potins, amiable, cynical or malicious, were not many hours later in the keeping of the head of the police. Monsieur Labiche in his long years of office had heard many surprising stories, and knew as well as any 184 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE man that the strangest things could happen in Paris. But he flattered himself that he could generally dis- tinguish the likely from the impossible. And he roared with laughter when he received the report of a fan- tastic studio somewhere in the Champs Elysees. "Listen to this," he said to his confidential secre- tary. "Some farceur is trying to make fun of us." And he read out the report. The Secretary entered into the mood of his chief and laughed joyously with him. "People don't do that sort of thing, even in Paris," said the Prefect. But he began to think differently when, in quick succession, reports came to hand of luxurious studios in the Boulevard des Italiens, the Rue St. Antoine, the Avenue de la Grande Armee, the Quai Voltaire, the Place de 1'Opera and other quarters of the city. "Tonnerre!" he exclaimed. "Somebody seems to have been scattering illicit studios out of a balloon. But there is evidently one somewhere. This must be seen to." The Prefect was one of those rare public servants who likes to see things done for himself. He had a hundred matters to attend to every day, but in his moments of leisure his chief delight was to wander alone round Paris at night dressed as inconspicuously as possible, and poke his nose into all sorts of places where he was not expected. He had run into some very remarkable, and even dangerous adventures in consequence. The story of the mysterious and ubiquitous studio, with its bathroom and tiger-skin rugs, excited both his curiosity and his sense of humor. It would be a shame, he reflected, to put it into the hands of some over- zealous Inspector, who, in his worthy desire to bring THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 185 transgressors to justice, would entirely overlook the finer points of the situation. It was a little matter he would look into himself at the earliest opportunity. In the meantime he collected all the reports that came in of the mysterious studio. VI AFTER some thought Lemaire had decided that the subject of his picture should be "Cleopatra receiving Mark Antony." In his ardent youth this romantic story of ancient Egypt had fascinated him, and he had then made a large number of sketches and studies for a painting that was to be the chef d'oeuvre of his career. He had never started on the picture, and decided that now was the time. The choice of this subject also disposed of the necessity of employing models, a matter which he wisely saw would present considerable difficulties during the daylight hours in the Rue Tartarin. Lemaire began by putting his house in order. With deft touches he transformed the interior of the studio. His living-room he decorated with striking posters, picked up at various times from vendors on the Boule- vards at a few sous each. With a few odd bits of cur- tain and carpet, some plaster casts and various exam- ples of his own work he made the studio look very much like any other studio. There were no tiger-skin rugs available, but Lemaire felt very satisfied with the deco- rations as he looked round. Then with a canvas of large dimensions on his easel he settled down to the painting of "Cleopatra receiving Mark Antony." He worked in the greatest happiness, with the sounds of his beloved Paris all around him. The shrill horn 186 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE of the itinerant chair-mender filled his studio with music. He could hear all details of the perennial quarrel between the "chasseur" and the door porter over at Boulanger's. Often he caught snatches of conversation from people passing on the pavements very intimate snatches sometimes. A Parisian to his bones, this nearness to the life of the great city while himself remaining unseen thrilled him. It was as though he had the cap of invisibility amongst his fellows. "No artist ever had such a studio," he exulted. He put all his soul into the work, and rejoiced to see the superb figure of Cleopatra, reclining on a couch of gold, growing before his eyes. As for Antoine he found himself for once compelled to play a waiting game. Lemaire had told him that at the rate he was now working the picture would be finished in a month. There was nothing to be done but to wait until that time was over, and then let Paris know through La Lumiere the fantastic story of the Rue Tartarin. He paid one nocturnal visit to Lemaire and found the artist most comfortably installed, and in the hap- piest frame of mind. A lamp burned brightly on the table, near which was a comfortable canvas deck chair. Lemaire pointed to an open book. "I am renewing acquaintance with some of the books I read in youth 'Notre Dame de Paris' you see. Do you know that this is the most delightful period I have ever spent in my life. I work furiously by day, and read at night. My mind is at rest, everything is calm and peaceful ... Take the easy chair. I have some passable red wine here." Antoine lighted a cigar, Lemaire filled a huge pipe with shaggy "caporal" and the two sat there talking THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 187 happily in the glow of the lamp light. Antoine found that there was something wonderfully soothing and friendly in the atmosphere of this wooden retreat. "Vraiment, I envy you, Lemaire, it is most pleasant here ... I must come again, and bring Bourdot and Morissot. We will put some things in a bag and have a little supper. What do you say?" "It would be delightful. When shall you come?" "It will be some time this week. But can your clock be right? Two in the morning! I must be going." And after Lemaire had gone outside to survey the street and see that nobody was about Antoine took his departure. It was two days later that Bourdot came in to him with a serious face. "You have heard the news? That story of the Rue Tartarin is all over Paris." "Comment!" Antoine bounded from his chair. "How has that happened?" "I fancy the Baron has been a little indiscreet. It is a huge joke, and everybody is laughing already. I heard it in three places to-day. But it is all mixed up in the most extraordinary fashion." And Bourdot told him all he had heard. The serious look went from Antoine's face as Bourdot proceeded. When the story was finished Antoine was shaking with mirth. "But it is no laughing matter," protested Bourdot. "How can I help laughing marble bathroom, tiger- skin rugs, afternoon teas, beautiful lady visitors and a phantom studio, that flits about all over Paris. What could be better . . . And perhaps that explains why we have not heard from the police or somebody. Either they don't believe it or they are busy exploring every chantier in Paris trying to find the right one." 188 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "Oh well, so long as it pleases you." "Why not? We must not let it worry us. It is a development of the joke. Anything may come of it. And you say that Paris is already amused. It is some- thing . . . By the way, I have promised Lemaire that the three of us will go to supper with him. I spent some hours there two nights ago. It was most amusing. We had better go to-night, and make the most of the time. I have told Morissot." "By all means. Who provides the supper?" "We do, of course. I am having, something put together at the Bonne Biere" "Good. By the way, you know I suppose that the young King of Calabria is visiting Paris incognito. I believe he is having a very good time with our friend the Baron. . . . Pity I can't describe their adven- tures. They would be so much more interesting than the conventional record of an official visit, hem?" Antoine smiled. "Till to-night then," he said. "Lemaire will be ready to receive visitors at twelve o'clock." Shortly after midnight the directorate of La Lumiere descended from a taxicab at the further end of the Rue Tartarin. Each of the three carried a parcel under his arm. They walked along the street, waited until a party of people had passed into Boulanger's and knocked at the door of the studio. Lemaire opened it at once. , Morissot and Bourdot, who had not seen the place in its magnificence, looked round them with appreciation and amusement. Lemaire was delighted at their praise of his interior. "I have set up the table in the studio," he said. "We can dine there and drink our coffee in here afterwards." THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 189 "Then let us undo these parcels and begin at once," said Antoine. Roast chicken, salads, champagne, liqueurs and other good things were produced which Lemaire, his eyes dancing with excitement and happiness, laid out on the table. In a few minutes all was ready. "Messieurs, a table," cried Antoine gaily. There was a cheerful popping of corks, and in the greatest good humor the four sat down to supper. From a corner the slumberous eyes of Cleopatra, recumbent on her couch of gold, seemed to be watching them with interest. "Who would not have been Mark Antony, even though he has been dead two thousand years," cried Bourdot. "What a woman ! Messieurs, I drink to the success of Lemaire's work of genius." There came a knock at the door. The four, sud- denly grave and quiet, stared at each other with startled faces. "You open the door, Lemaire," whispered Antoine. "Quick, get that workman's blouse on. If it is any- body dangerous you must swear like a market porter, and say you have got some members of your family with you. We will keep in the shadow here." "But if it is the police," exclaimed Bourdot. "We must hope it isn't. If it is, Lemaire must bluff as best he can." There came another knock. Lemaire opened the door a few inches. "Who's there?" he asked gruffly. "A friend of Monsieur Antoine Poiret," came the answer. "I desire to come in and have supper here." "Good Heavens, that is the Baron's voice," cried Antoine and ran to the door. 190 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE VII To his amazement he found that the Baron was not alone. Far from it. A group or some six or more people stood behind him and it included three ladies. "You here!" exclaimed the Baron. "That is good fortune indeed. I have a little party of friends here, and we all desire to have supper in the famous studio of the Rue Tartarin. May we come in?" "Mais certainement." Antoine held open the door. He felt quite bewildered. The Baron entered followed by a most distinguished company. "Let me present M. Poiret, the author of this de- lightful conspiracy," said the Baron. Antoine bowed again and again as he heard a string of names famous in Parisian society. The three ladies were all remark- ably pretty he noticed. The face of one elegant and slim young man, who was presented as the Duke of Santander, seemed vaguely familiar. The thought running uppermost in Antoine's mind was as to how he was to supply food for all this assembly. "How did you know I was having supper here?" he asked the Baron. "Are you having supper but I did not know it." "And yet . . ." Antoine spread out his hands with a helpless gesture. The Baron laughed, but there was a touch of em- barrassment in his tone as he bent to speak in a low tone. "The fact is, mon cher Poiret, I owe you a thousand apologies." The fame of your latest exploit has got abroad. There is great laughter and excitement about it. It occurred to me, then, to bring a little party to sup in the famous atelier of the Rue Tartarin. You THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 191 heard the names of my friends. They are not unknown in the world of fashion. And the Duke of Santander you know who he is, of course." "The King of Calabria!" exclaimed Antoine, a light breaking on him. "Precisely. You cannot imagine how he relishes the joke." "But your supper!" "That is arranged for. Boulanger is sending it across. It will be here at any moment." "Boulanger!" Antoine was not yet at the end of his bewilderment. "But if he finds out why this place has been built that his business has been dislocated for days because . . ." "On the contrary. We called Boulanger to us and let him into the secret. He laughed until he cried. I have never seen the proprietor of a restaurant so thor- oughly happy. It was extraordinary. He thinks you are a genius, and will superintend the laying of the supper in person. And everything will be carried out with the greatest discretion." "Oh, but I give it up!" exclaimed Antoine, putting his hand to his head. The door was suddenly pushed open and a waiter entered bearing a small table. Two other waiters ap- peared behind -him, similarly burdened. And ' then Boulanger himself entered. His face broke into a happy smile as he saw Antoine and bowed to him. Antoine explained the situation to the Baron. "Then you four had better join in our feast," said the Baron. "That will be twelve for supper, Boulanger." Boulanger rushed off to give more orders. "Excuse me one moment, please. I will go and ex- plain to my friends. They will be delighted." And Antoine went in to the inner room. 192 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "We have heard everything," said Bourdot. "I know them all that is with the exception of His Majesty," he added importantly. "The Duke of Santander," Antoine corrected. "Have no fear. I am at home in these matters." And Bourdot twirled his moustache. The Baron entered with the Duke, and presentations were made. The Duke immediately noticed the picture and "went to examine it. He was loud in his praise and complimented Lemaire gracefully. All this while the waiters were dashing about, noise- less hut amazingly energetic. In ten minutes they had effected a wonderful transformation. A long table surrounded by chairs ran down the center of the studio, almost filling it. The white cloth was decorated with silver and flowers. Plates and cutlery were laid for twelve. Dozens of candles twinkled in candelabra. It was a miracle. Boulanger gave an approving look round. "Supper will be ready in two minutes, Monsieur le Baron," he said. Even as he spoke the tireless waiters appeared with the first course. With some confusion and a good deal of laughing and chatting the company sat down. Antoine found himself by the side of one of the three charming ladies, who paid him the warmest compli- ments on 'his ingenuity and sense of humor. And Antoine was more than pleased to hear that other ex- ploits of La Lumiere had been appreciated warmly. The supper was a great success. The Duke of Santander was in the liveliest good humor, and showed that he had an excellent wit. "I have been introduced to one Paris by the President of the Republic," he said. "I have been introduced to quite another Paris by you, Baron. I much prefer THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 193 yours. The studio of the Rue Tartarin is far more amusing than the Opera on a gala night." "And costs the State far less," replied the Baron, at which the Duke laughed immoderately. Suddenly when the gaiety was at its height Boulanger rushed in. His face was white. "Monsieur le Baron !" he cried, and pointed behind him. The chatter and laughter ceased and everybody looked towards the door. A small white-bearded figure, in an overcoat and bowler hat, appeared in the doorway. "Bon Dieu, the Prefect of Police !" exclaimed Antoine, Monsieur Labiche, seeing ladies present, removed his hat. His face was immobile, but his eyes seemed to twinkle as he looked the company slowly up and down. The silence was complete. "Mesdames et Messieurs," said the Prefect, with an ironical inclination. He had the situation perfectly in hand, and was enjoying it immensely. Then his glance rested on the Duke of Santander. An expression of amazement came over his face. Even M. Labiche was completely nonplussed. "Bon soir, Monsieur le Prefet," said the Duke politely. "Bon soir, Monsieur le Due," returned the Prefect. "I did not think when I met you this morning that I should have the pleasure of seeing you so soon again." "Your charming Paris is full of delicious surprises. Will you not join us at supper?" "Ma foi, I should like to very much, but . . ." The Prefect hesitated, searching for a phrase. He was saved from his predicament by a chorus of voices from outside which made everybody turn and look towards the door. There were the rough tones of men, the shrill speech of women and the querulous voices of crying infants all mixed up. There was a half-silence in which could be heard the sound of shuffling feet, and 394 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE then the sound of a man's voice raised to address the others. The next instant the outer door, which had been left ajar after the entry of the Prefect was pushed open. The eyes of all the company in the brilliantly lighted studio were directed towards the inner door. A stout little man appeared standing by the side of the Prefect. He blinked with wonderment at the scene before him the lights, the silver, the flowers, the cut glass, the evening dress and the beautiful ladies of the Baron's supper party. "Ten thousand devils!" exclaimed Antoine to himself in a heat of anger. "It's Grosj ean !" VIII THE eyes of the newcomer seemed to be starting from his head in wonder. "Mais bon Dieu, where am I !" he exclaimed. His aspect of amazement was irresistibly comic, and the party exploded in a roar of laughter. The Duke was particularly delighted. Alone the Prefect had preserved his composure. "Who are you, and what do you want?" he ques- tioned abruptly. "My name is Grosj ean, and I have come here for shelter for some poor devils of workpeople I have got with me. It is cold, and is just beginning to rain and we have nowhere to go. I have been thrown out of three places to-night. I waited until the audience was leav- ing a cafe chantant, and tried to rush in as the others were coming out. Useless ! We were defeated. Then we stormed the Grand Hotel. The same, and some blackguard hit me with a stick. Observe my hat. We had no better luck with a tramway shelter. Passing THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 195 down the Rue Royale there I thought of this place. In desperation . . ." "But how did you know of this place?" inquired the Prefect sharply. "Sapristi, I built it !" "Built it! For whom?" "For me or rather for La Lumiere," interposed Antoine. The Prefect looked at Antoine, and caressed his little beard. "Ah! I begin to see." The Prefect turned to the newcomer again. "And so you are the famous Grosjean. How many followers have you out there?" "We are thirty all told, and there are ten young children." The Prefect shrugged his shoulders a little hope- lessly. Here was a devil of a situation. He looked towards the Duke inquiringly. But the Duke, who had been talking rapidly in an undertone to the Baron, finding out exactly what all this meant, had risen to his feet. "Monsieur le Prefect and you, Monsieur," he turned to include Antoine in his request. "We cannot let these poor people and children stand outside in the cold. May I suggest that they are allowed to come in. No doubt they are hungry, and there is plenty here for them to eat." He looked round the well-filled table. "I know not precisely who is the host of this charm- ing retreat," said the Prefect drily, "but for my part, Monsieur le Due, I have no objection to make to your generous proposal." "Nor I," said Antoine. "Ah, but that is kind of you!" cried Grosjean, his face beaming. He ran immediately to the other door, and opening it wide shouted : 196 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "Entrez, tout le monde!" It was a pathetic procession that came in. White- faced men and women, young children led by the hand, one or two babies carried in their mothers' arms. They crowded in sheepishly, abashed by the company in whose presence they found themselves. "We shall need milk," exclaimed Boulanger, looking at the babies. "I will go and see if there is any to be found at this hour." The company had risen from the table, and as the elegant friends of the Baron came out of the studio Grosjean's homeless family pressed in, their eyes shin- ing at the sight of the good things on the table. Both rooms were now most uncomfortably full. The Duke found himself surrounded by a group of untidy women holding babies. He took it very well, and smiled at the babies. He also lit a cigar. The Baron found himself by the side of Antoine. "How does this affect your little scheme, mon ami?" "Heaven only knows. I am too bewildered to think. What a night !" "The Prefect must feel as bewildered as you. He discovers the studio, and then finds a King in it not to mention the good Grosjean and his family. It is a delicate and delicious situation. It seems to me the Prefect has got you, and you have got the Prefect. How if I suggested to the Duke that there should be an informal conference where the four of us might talk things over?" "Perhaps it would be as well. . . . And yet my position is very strong. Think how Paris would laugh to read of to-night's affair in the Rue Tartarin." The Baron shook his head. "You would have to leave the King out, mon ami. He is not here officially, but none the less he is the guest THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 197 of every good Parisian and you are an excellent Parisian." "Merci! Then, Baron, I leave the matter entirely in your hands. La Lumiere owes much to you. Do as you wish." "Good. You shall not regret it." The Baron worked his way through the crowd to the side of the Duke who nodded readily to something the Baron said to him. The Duke make a signal to the Prefect, who had been looking on at Gros jean's ar- rangements for feeding his hungry flock. M. Labiche hurried to him. "Monsieur le Prefet," said the Duke, taking out a well-filled pocketbook, "I should like to place ten thou- sands francs in your hands for the poor of Paris with the suggestion that half of it should be applied to the immediate wants of those who are here now." He counted out ten notes, which M. Labiche received with an expression of warm thanks. "And will you do me the favor of lunching with me to-morrow. There will be a very small party. The Hotel Bristol at one o'clock." The Prefect replied that he would be delighted. "Then good night, and au revoir." "It is morning, your Majesty," said the Prefect with a laugh. And through the half-open door he pointed to the first pale light of dawn stealing over the tall house-tops of the Rue Tartarin. IX THE three Directors of La Lumiere sat in council again. Antoine had just returned from his lunch with the King. Bourdot and Morissot were burning to know what had happened, and what had been decided. 198 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "It was most interesting," said Antoine. "He is a charming young man, the King. How pleasant to be a king, after all." "Oui, mats . . ." Bourdot interposed impatiently. "Bien, bten. I will get on. We sat in a small pri- vate room at a small round table I facing the King, the Prefect to my left, the Baron to my right. And the luncheon delicious ! There was a vin de Bourgogne such as I can never hope to taste of again. Incompar- able ! It seems there is very little of it in existence, and it is all reserved for the King." "And the sardines? Of what vintage were they?" asked Morissot drily. "Nothing, mon cher Morissot, shall hurry me. There were no sardines. Admirable as sardines are in their place they would have been an impertinence on this occasion. But I can see it would not be fair to describe this perfect luncheon in detail. It was so much beyond ordinary luncheons that to tell you of it would be like dangling an excellent meal before a starving man." "Oh, mais voyons!" and Bourdot banged his fist on the table. "Then I will be brief. Everybody was in the best of humor, and the King's first question was as to what became of Grosjean and his family last night. He seemed quite concerned about them, and was much re- lieved when the Prefect assured him that they are to be well cared for during the next few days, until proper living quarters can be found for them. "That is excel- lent,' said the King. Un tres gentil garcon^ le Roi" "Yes, but La Lumiere. Where do we come in ?" "Ma foi, it was all settled so quickly that I hardly know how to describe it. The King said very sweetly to the Prefect, 'By the way, will there be any sequel to THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 199 the affair of the Rue Tartarin?' The Prefect answered that so far he had taken no steps of any kind, but if a certain newspaper which he would not name made great capital out of the incident, then it might be necessary to invoke the fullest power of the law. Upon which the Baron said, 'I will answer for it that nothing of the sort shall be done.' And at that the Prefect replied that if this were so he was quite willing to forget his visit to the Rue Tartarin of the night before, but trusted that on the other hand his Majesty would cherish the experience as an amusing and unconventional souvenir of Paris." "And then?" "Why then," said Antoine with a wave of the hand, "we drank some more of that incomparable Bourgogne and talked of other things. In short, the affair of the Rue Tartarin was over finished." "But that is a bit stiff," exclaimed Bourdot heatedly. "This affair from first to last, has cost us twelve thou- sand francs, and because you have had a well-cooked luncheon and some wine a little better than we can buy at the cafe round the corner, you consent tamely to be bought off like that ! Sapristi ! but it is not business ! Twelve thousand francs to the bad !" "Not entirely," said Antoine. He took a little morocco case from his pocket and from it extracted a glittering scarfpin. "You observe the King's mono- gram set in brilliants. He presented me with this. It is chic, is it not ?" At the sight of this Bourdot glared and made a noise of disgust and anger. Even Morissot was moved to complain : "But, mon cher Antoine, though we submit gladly to your leadership you must remember that we also are directors of La Lumiere." 200 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "So his Majesty most graciously remembered," said Antoine sweetly. "Here you will observe is a delightful gold cigarette case, with the royal monogram in the corner in rubies. Here is another, precisely similar, but with the monogram in emeralds. The King begged me to hand them to you with his compliments." There was silence for a space. "I like emeralds," said Morissot at last. "And I rubies," said Bourdot. "It is very charming of his Majesty," admitted Morissot. "Yes, Antoine, you were right. No other course was open to you." "I shall treasure this case," said Bourdot. "As you say, Antoine, his Majesty is a delightful young man. i. . . But you must admit, all the same, that the affair of the Rue Tartarin is a failure our first failure." "Not at all," replied Antoine with energy. "It has been money well spent. Do not forget, to begin with, that the Baron, one of the most powerful men in Paris, is our firm friend. And do not forget that the affair of the Rue Tartarin has been talked about throughout the very best circles in Paris, and will be talked about still more. The story of the King will be on every lip. La Lumiere has become the pet of the smartest and best in Society. And all that for twelve thousand francs! There are some papers would gladly pay half a million." "And the studio?" "That still belongs to us. We sell the material to Grosjean, and he takes it down and carts it away as soon as possible. And, I forgot to tell you, the King has taken a great fancy to Lemaire's Cleopatra, and intends to buy the picture. That will make all the greater sensation when it is hung in the Salon. A failure! Au contraire! And though we are three THE STUDIO IN THE RUE TARTARIN 201 staunch Republicans, I propose that we go round to the humble Cafe de la Bonne Blere and crack a bottle of the best that the Pere Duval can give us in a toast." "What is the toast?" inquired Bourdot. "The King!" said Antoine. "His Majesty of Calabria, henceforth a regular subscriber to that famous and excellent newspaper, La Lumiere of Paris." CHAPTER VI THE VILLA AT NEUILLY IT was inevitable that at some time or other the trenchant style of the political articles written by M. Auguste Morissot in La Lumlere should lead their author into grave trouble. Morissot in the happiest frame of mind, was compos- ing one evening a fulmination against his arch and eter- nal enemy, the Government, when Jean, the doorkeeper, entered with a card. "For you, Monsieur," said Jean, proffering the card. "The gentleman says he insists on seeing you at once." "Theodore Hippolyte Dupuy," Morissot read on the piece of pasteboard. It was the name of a Deputy to whom he had slightingly referred in that morning's paper, in writing about a debate in the Chamber. "Does he seem angry?" asked Morissot. "Remarkably so, Monsieur." "Bien you had better show him in at once." A few seconds later the visitor entered the room. He was short and plump, with the dark skin and luxuriant black beard of a native of the south. "Have I the honor to speak to Monsieur Morissot?" demanded M. Dupuy, with a flash of his dark eyes. Morissot inclined his head, and asked what he could have the pleasure of doing for his visitor. 202 THE VILLA AT NEUILLY 203 "You referred to me in ungracious terms in your journal this morning." M. Dupuy spoke loudly and angrily. "You said that I might make an excellent comedian, but that I am a very bad Deputy. Monsieur, I demand that you retract those words immediately, and write a full and handsome apology for having pub- lished them." "I regret, Monsieur, but La Lumiere does not hold its political opinions lightly. It is not in the habit of retracting its considered judgment." Morissot spoke politely but decisively. "Then am I to understand that you refuse to do as I wish?" The dark eyes of M. Dupuy were dancing with rage. "Alas, I am afraid it is impossible." "Then you shall give me satisfaction in another and more drastic fashion. My seconds shall wait upon you and at once. I wish you good evening, Monsieur." And the irate Deputy bounced out of the room. Morissot carefully placed his monocle in his eye and stared out of the window. He had never fought a duel. But now evidently his turn had come. Well, there was nothing surprising in that. The amazing thing was that it had not happened to him long before. The boulevard journalist, and especially if he fishes in the troubled waters of politics, must always be prepared for such an adventure. There was the question of seconds. Obviously he must have Antoine and Bourdot. Himself as principal, his co-directors as seconds, La Lumiere would make its stand on the field of honor in the name of truth and justice. For Morissot had the supreme advantage as a journalist that he was sincere, and believed in what he wrote. He had suggested that M. Dupuy would make a better comedian than he was a member of Parliament [THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE because that was his honest opinion after listening to a debate in the Chamber of Deputies in which M. Dupuy had taken part. Morissot walked down the corridor to Antoine's room, and found him there talking to Bourdot. "I have something to announce to you, mes amis" said Morissot, with a touch of gravity in his tones. And he told them what had just passed. "The Devil !" said Antoine. "Mon cher ami!" exclaimed Bourdot. "But you seem surprised, both of you ! Everybody must fight a duel at some time or other," Morissot laughed lightly. "Your calm is admirable," said Antoine. "But you know, doubtless, something of the reputation of this Dupuy?" "As a politician you mean? He is of no account whatever." "As a politician! Sapristi, no! As a duellist," cried Antoine. The slightest change came over Morissot's face. "He is is known, then, as a duellist?" "Ma foi, is .he known! He has had at least half a dozen affairs, and he has pinked him man every time. Vraiment you did not know?" "It is the first I have heard of it. Diable ! That is interesting." And Morissot smiled grimly. "Do you know any details concerning this fire eater?" "Nothing more than that." "Well, no matter how terrible he may be, I've got to fight him. You two will be my seconds, of course." They assented readily. "Then I will leave everything in your hands." "I know you do not fence, mon ami," said Antoine. "How are you with the pistol?" THE VILLA AT NEUILLY 205 "Perhaps I'm a dead shot," laughed Morissot. "But since I've never fired one I don't exactly know. Sword or pistol, it is all the same to me. And now I must be off and finish my article." Antoine gripped one hand, Bourdot the other. "Leave it to us, and have no fear, mon vieux. In two days from now you will be the hero of a sensational encounter. This Dupuy shall not have it all his own way. One man cannot have all the luck." When Morissot had gone the other two looked at each other gravely. "I don't like the look of this, mon vieux Bourdot." "Nor I." "Time is short. If I know anything about this ferocious Dupuy his seconds will be here at any moment. He has probably got them waiting somewhere near. Fancy Morissot provoking such a fellow, and knowing nothing of his reputation." "If Morissot did not like his politics he would attack the Evil One himself," said Bourdot warmly. "It is true. In politics he fears nobody." Morissot entered again. "Our friend has not wasted much time," he said. "I think he must have had his seconds waiting outside in a cab. I will bring them in and leave them to you." He returned in a moment with two correctly attired gentlemen who were ceremoniously introduced. Moris- sot, with a bow to the visitors, withdrew once more, leav- ing his own and his opponent's seconds in conference. The meeting only lasted a few moments. Antoine was anxious to make a few inquiries as to the prowess of M. Dupuy before he committed his friend to any conditions. It was arranged that there should be a meeting at lunch on the following day at which the proces verbal of the combat should be drawn up. And 2Q6 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE with cordial handshakes the representatives of the fiery Dupuy took their leave. "Do you know anything about drawing up the con- ditions of an encounter on the field of honor?" asked Antoine of Bourdot. "Very little. I have seen such a document, but, ma foi, that is all." "I have never even seen one. And these things have to be done most carefully grandly and with an air. Why is one not taught at school how to draw up a proces verbal for a duel? We must not look insig- nificant before the seconds of Morissot's adversary. Then Morissot will need a surgeon to accompany him to the field of honor. Where the devil does one find at short notice a surgeon who will mix liimself up in a duel? And we must find out all we can about Dupuy. Perhaps it will be better for Morissot to meet him with pistols. What a situation! It is not so amusing as I thought to be a second." "On the contrary, it is a position of great responsi- bility," said Bourdot. Antoine sat in thought for a few moments. Then his eye lit up with relief. "It is a case for Severin-Blanchard. Why did not we think of him at once ? He will get us out of all these difficulties." And Antoine reached for the telephone. II MONSIEUR SEVERIN-BLANCHARD was a well-known figure in Paris. He had a considerable reputation as an author and dramatist, and in addition had fought in more than a score of duels. But more than this he was recognized as the supreme authority on duelling. Time after time people of his acquaintance who were in dif- 207 ficulties such as now beset Antoine and Bourdot, came to consult him on the etiquette and procedure of affairs of honor. He had studied the duel as it had been practiced in all climes and all ages. His flat in the Rue Vaugirard was a museum of weapons, ancient and modern. His services were so often in demand that gradually he had become a sort of unofficial arbitre or referee of nearly every duel that took place in Paris and the neighborhood. He knew the intimate details of many stormy love affairs, the frequent cause of his being called out of bed at all sorts of awkward hours. He had been the director of combat in hundreds of affaires. In times of high political tension, when hot words and cartes de visite flew about like autumn leaves, he was one of the busiest men in Paris. He had indeed been known to complain that he was so much occupied in arranging and conducting other people's affairs of honor that he had little or no time to indulge in any duels of his own. Not that he was in any way bellicose or truculent. In spite of his upturned moustaches, the little imperial that curled on his chin and his general air of a Mousquetaire who has strayed into the twentieth century, he was one of the kindest of men. But duelling was his hobby, and he tumbled into a rencontre joyously, as a bookworm picks up with de- light an interesting volume at a bookseller's stall. He had no positive objection to pistols, but the ring of flashing steel blades in a quiet sylvan spot on a fine spring morning was to him the highest pinnacle of en- joyment in life. M. Severin-Blanehard was sitting at his desk work- ing on the third act of a new farce, whose delivery was much overdue, when the telephone tinkled. He made an exclamation of impatience as he picked up the receiver. 208 t THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "Allo !" he cried in his rich baritone voice. "Is that Monsieur Severin-Blanchard? This is Poiret, Antoine Poiret of Lu Lumiere, speaking. I wish to see you at once on an important matter. It is most urgent." "Mon cher ami, I am very, very occupied," replied Severin-Blanchard, in a tone of the deepest sorrow. "But what is it? Is it a question of an encounter?" As briefly as possible Antoine explained the matter and its various difficulties. "Only you can help us," he concluded, pleadingly. "There is no other in Paris to whom we can turn." "So be it," said Severin-Blanchard, touched in his tenderest spot. "I am at your service from this moment onwards." "A thousand thanks. We are coming along at once." A quarter of an hour later the two seconds entered the cabinet de travail of the great man. Severin- Blanchard put cigars and wine before them, and they plunged into the question at once. He listened care- fully to all that was said. "Then I am to understand that your client is quite unskilled with either sword or pistol. It is not the best of preparations for a meeting on the field. And yet I have known many others just as ill equipped who have come off victorious. There is a certain chance in these matters. And courage and audacity count." "That is good news," said Antoine. "You will pardon, I hope, my great ignorance in such matters, but there is one rather delicate question which I wish to put to you. ( . ,. t . Are the duels of to-day often dangerous ?" The eyebrows of Severin-Blanchard went up in surprise. "Ma foi, every duel is dangerous. The swords are THE VILLA AT NEUILLY sharp, and every pistol I have loaded hundreds of them is ready and willing to kill its man. It is the duellists who are at fault. They pierce an arm instead of a body, or are nervous at the moment of firing. Make no mistake, Monsieur. Every duel is a serious affair." And Severin-Blanchard brought his hand down with a loud bang on his desk. "That is exactly what I wanted to know," said Antoine. "Then as Dupuy is a deadly fencer, perhaps it will be better for our friend to fight him with pistols." "But on the contrary, Dupuy is a dead shot and can- not fence at all." "Cannot fence at all!" cried Antoine. "But he has pinked his man severely on every occasion he has gone out." M. Severin-Blanchard laughed his rich laugh. "That is true, but all the same he knows no more about the sword than does your friend. He has a little secret. Tenez! I will show you." He rose and de- tached from the wall a pair of foils. "Take this have no fear, there is a button on the end. Put your- self in position. On guard ! The duel is about to com- mence. We are standing so is it not ready for the combat. To start the combat the arbitre calls out the famous words I have called them, ah ! how many hun- dreds of times 'Allez, Messieurs !' r "It is the almost invariable custom for the adversaries not to cross swords until the two words 'Allez, Messieurs !' have been cried. But it is quite within his right for a duellist to attack the moment the arbitre has said 'Allez.' The 'Allez !' is the command. The 'Messieurs' is merely a polite addition to the word of command. You follow me?" "Parfaitement." "Then I will show you. You, Monsieur," he turned 210 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE to Bourdot, "will start the combat by shouting 'Allez, Messieurs!' And you will see how Dupuy always wins, and why his combats only last one second just one short second. Ready!" "Allez, ..." cried Bourdot but had not time to say more. Like a flash Severin-Blanohard lunged forward, his foil striking Antoine in the shoulder and bending under the shock. The director of duels recovered himself. "The duel is over. You would now be lying on the grass with the doctors busily cutting the shirt away from your shoulder. I should be lighting a cigarette and receiving the congratulations of my friends. Is it not clear?" "As daylight," said Antoine. "I thank you for your brilliant exposition. I had no idea that a duel might be won so easily. Dupuy's secret is worth knowing." "Do not forget that he allies with it marvelous quick- ness and energy, and a perfect sang-froid. He is afraid of nothing. And now in what further way can I serve you gentlemen?" "We wish, if you could so honor us, that you should be the arbitre of this duel. And there are a number of details in which, with the time at our disposal, we find a certain difficulty the choice of a doctor, the drawing up of the pr aces-verbal, a delicate task for which none is so well fitted as yourself and others. . . . " "Say no more. If the seconds of M. Dupuy have no objection and I do not anticipate any I shall be glad to preside at this duel. And as to the pr aces-verbal that is a simple matter. We will draw it up now. You suggest then that M. Morissot meets his adversary sword in hand." "Yes, the sword." THE VILLA AT NEUILLY "But if Dupuy is so terrible with this weapon !" inter- jected Bourdot. "But thanks to M. Severin-Blanchard we know his method, do we not?" said Antoine looking hard at his friend. "Ah, precisely." A look of understanding came into Bourdot's eyes. "With swords then." Severin-Blanchard began to write. For ten minutes his pen scratched away busily on a task of which he never tired. At the end of his writing he read out the proposed conditions of the duel. The document was a model of its kind, rich in fine and sonorous phrases. "Admirable," said Antoine enthusiastically. "With that in hand we can meet the seconds of our adversary with every confidence to-morrow." They took their leave a few minutes later with many expressions of warm thanks for the help and courtesy extended to them. "Vraiment, he is a splendid fellow, this Severin- Blanchard," said Antoine when they were out in the street again. "Who would think that he is the hero of a score and more of duels? And thanks to him I see daylight for friend Morissot. It will be excellent if he skewers the redoubtable Dupuy." "If. But do you think he has any real chance?" "Every chance. Do you not see? Severin-Blanchard not only showed us how Dupuy fights. He also showed us without intending it how Morissot may counter him. At the word 'Allez!' Morissot instantly steps backwards. Dupuy by this time has lunged forward, his blow is spent and Morissot has him at his mercy, to pink him where he pleases. One thrust and the duel is over. To-morrow early we must find a salle d'armes, and there we will practice this stroke with him. Morissot THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE can be as cool as a fish. With a little tuition from us he will acquit himself splendidly on the field of honor. Ill Two days later at nine o'clock in the morning Antoine and Bourdot drove to Morissot's apartment in the Rue de Faubourg St. Honore. They had acquired a sump- tuous automobile for the occasion, and Antoine nursed a bright new pair of duelling swords. They found Morissot just finishing a very light breakfast. He was dressed ready to go out, and ap- peared quite calm, if a trifle pale. He greeted his friends with a smile. "You have slept well?" asked Antoine anxiously. "Not at all badly. I had a little writing to do." He handed a sealed packet to Antoine. "You understand if by any chance anything should happen." "Ah, bah, but nonsense, my dear friend," cried Antoine boisterously to hide the emotion that overcame him at this incident. "Your fiery Dupuy's as good as vanquished already. You behaved splendidly at the salle d'armes yesterday." Antoine put himself into the attitude of a fencer. "Your action was perfect." "Allez: back, p-s-s-t, got him! Ca y estf Two seconds and the duel is over. He will be the most sur- prised man in Paris." "It will not be my fault if he isn't," said Morissot. "That I promise you. But before we go a handshake, dear friends. Thanks for all you have done for me." At this Antoine kissed his friend warmly on both cheeks, and Bourdot did the same. They shook hands silently. "And now, come along," said Antoine briskly. "The THE VILLA AT NEUILLY 213 meeting is for ten-thirty, and we have the doctor to pick up on the way. You can thank our friend Severin- Blanohard that it is not five o'clock in the morning. He has had a great deal to do with abolishing those absurdly early duels. 'Why not let a man sleep and breakfast in comfort, and go to the field with a light heart,' he said. Fancy getting up at five o'clock to fight a duel. Brrrh! But at ten-thirty one has slept and had breakfast it is little worse than going to the barber's." And he rattled on in apparent high spirits, trying to give the illusion that going out to fight a duel was a most amiable and amusing way of passing the morning. They picked up the doctor in the Avenue de la Grande Armee, where he was standing at a corner wait- ing, a case of instruments under his arm. Antoine and Bourdot had had a short interview with him on the previous day. He was now presented to Morissot, and the two cordially shook hands. "It is a beautiful morning," said the doctor. "Glorious," returned Morissot. Nobody looked at the case which the doctor was now carefully depositing under the seat. The automobile sped smoothly down the broad Avenue de la Grande Armee out through the Porte Maillot, and along the Avenue de Neuilly. The place for the en- counter had been selected by Severin-Blanchard. He possessed a small intelligence service peculiarly his own, by which he heard of all sorts of suitable spots in which a duel could take place without fear of interruption. For the present occasion he had chosen the grounds of a villa at Neuilly which belonged to an acquaintance of his and had been empty for some time. The car turned down a broad and quiet avenue linecl with large houses, each one standing in its own grounds. ,THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE It stopped outside a handsome villa, with white walls and dark green latticed shutters, where another motor car was already stationed. The party got out, unlatched a big wooden gate, followed a graveled path that led to the back of the villa and found themselves on a large and secluded lawn. Severin-Blanchard was already there, examining the ground, and came forward to meet them. "You are early, Messieurs," he said, with a sweep of his hat, "but I expect the others here at any moment now. M. Dupuy is always well in time." As they spoke there was a click at the gate, and in a moment Dupuy appeared with his two seconds and his surgeon. The Deputy walked with a confident and even nonchalant air. He had the easy look of a man who regarded a duel as a mere bagatelle. At the first sight of him Antoine felt that Morissot had indeed a redoubtable adversary. "How do you feel, mon vieux," he asked. "Quite as well as can be expected," replied Morissot. He was wearing his monocle, and appeared to be as calm as anybody present. Only a touch of pallor in his cheeks showed that he was fully alive to the situation. "And the lessons we had yesterday it all comes back to you?" "Perfectly. I shall not forget what it is necessary to do." Severin-Blanchard was now exchanging a few words with Dupuy, and the two doctors were in consultation. Antoine and Bourdot greeted the two seconds of la partie adverse, and exchanged a few polite phrases. From the corner of his eye Antoine noticed that Severin- Blanchard, a look of supreme content on his handsome picturesque face, was sterilizing a pair of foils in burn- ing alcohol. All was ready. THE VILLA AT NEUILLY 215 The two friends went back to Morissot and assisted him to take off his jacket and waistcoat. Everything was very quiet and still and Antoine felt a slight sinking 'beneath his waistcoat, as if he himself were about to fight. It seemed a very cold-blooded business. Nobody showed a trace of anger or excitement. Why should two men be preparing to skewer each other? The two adversaries were now in line, facing each other; Dupuy, small, round, compact and heavily bearded, with resolution gleaming in his dark eyes; Morissot tall and spare and with a look Antoine had never seen bef jre on his usually languid face. Severin-Blanchard approached the two men, holding a light cane with which he was ready at any moment to intervene in the combat and strike up the swords of the duellists. He addressed a few words to the combatants, relative to the conditions of the encounter, and then took up a position a few paces away, the cane lightly poised in his hand. The moment had come. Antoine gripped Bourdot's arm. Would Morissot remember his lesson? Severin-Blanchard took a breath. "Allez, . . , !" Like a flash at the first syllable the little Deputy rushed forward, his blade aimed straight at Morissot's chest. But in the same moment Morissot leaped nimbly back, and the point of his adversary's sword stopped an inch from his shirt. The Deputy was now fully ex- tended, his legs wide apart and body thrown far for- ward. And even as the word "Messieurs" came from the referee of the duel, Morissot made a step to the left and calmly and resolutely thrust his blade well into the upper arm of the Deputy. There came a cry from M. Dupuy, not so much be- cause of the pain of the wound as of surprise and anger 216 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE at the unexpected way in which affairs had turned. He dropped his sword and rapped out an oath rich with the rolling r's of the South: "Tonnerre de Dieu!" His doctor rushed up at once. M. Dupuy had turned very white, and was tottering a little. He was helped gently to a sitting posture, and the doctor, cut- ing away the shirt, made a rapid examination of the wound, the seconds of M. Dupuy and Morissot's doctor standing by. Antoine and Bourdot wrung their comrade's hand and heaped congratulations on him. The voice of Dupuy could be heard faintly protesting that he wished to go on with the fight, to which his doctor was replying soothingly as he dressed the wound. "I hope he is not too badly hurt," said Morissot. "Nothing like so badly as you would have been had anything gone wrong," said Antoine. "Dupuy aimed straight for your ribs." For the first time Antoine had an opportunity to look round him, and was surprised to find how extensive were the grounds in which they stood. From the lawn no other house was visible. Lighting a cigarette he went on a little voyage of exploration. The lawn gave place to a well-kept shrubbery, and pushing on through this Antoine found to his surprise that the grounds sloped down sharply to the Seine. At the edge of the water a skiff was tied up near a little boathouse. The wooded edge of an island faced the garden about thirty yards across the river. On both its main sides the property was bounded by high walls. It was a surprisingly secluded spot, and Antoine decided that it would be a charming place to live in. But it was time to be going, and he turned back towards the lawn. With the exception of Bourdot and THE VILLA AT NEUILLY 217 Morissot, who were standing apart talking, everybody was still gathered round the wounded man. And then, looking beyond towards the villa Antoine saw something that made him halt abruptly. At one of the upper windows was the face of a man looking down intently on the scene passing on the lawn. It was a strong, clean shaven face, pale and surmounted by a shock of dark hair. Antoine felt for the moment that he must be dreaming. But there was no possible doubt. It was the face of Bertoli, the world-famous Italian tenor, the idol of fashionable Europe and America ! Well-screened himself from observation Antoine stood and watched. Bertoli half turned round as if to speak to someone in the room, and a moment later Antoine could just make out the faint outline of a woman stand- ing behind him. Except that she had fair hair and was evidently young, Antoine could see nothing more. There was a movement in the group on the lawn, and the two faces abruptly disappeared. Dupuy was now on his feet again, and Antoine rejoined his friends who were now talking to Severin-Blanchard. "Did you say this villa was empty?" Antoine asked the director of the combat. "But of course, or we should not be here. It has been empty for six months or more. It belongs to my friend the Comte de Peyrac, who is now traveling in the East. Why do you ask?" "Nothing, but it occurred to me that for an empty villa the grounds and everything about it are kept in excellent order. . . . It is a charming place." Ten minutes later they" were rolling back swiftly towards Paris and on the same road, but proceeding very slowly to avoid jolting, came Dupuy and his friends. Through the ministrations of Severin- 218 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE Blanchard a reconciliation had been effected and Morissot had shaken the uninjured arm of his opponent. Bourdot was humming a gay song as they sped back towards the city. The Arc de Triomphe loomed up again, at the end of the leafy vista of the Avenue de la Grande Armee. "That is a splendid sight after an anxious morning," Bourdot cried. "We will have the best luncheon Paris can give us." He clacked his tongue. "What say you, Antoine? Where shall we go? The Cafe de Paris the Cafe Anglais where? Morissot has no say in this matter." "Where?" said Antoine absently. "Anywhere you please. . . . But no. I have a fancy, if it is agree- able to you both, to go to the Cafe de la Paix." It had suddenly occurred to him that on his rare pro- fessional visits to Paris this was the restaurant most favored by Bertoli. IV As has been said more than once, if you are in search of any particular person you have only to sit long enough on the terrace outside the Cafe de la Paix, and sooner or later the object of your search is bound to pass. This rule does not apply to the restaurant inside, but Antoine and his two friends had been sitting there at luncheon for only half an hour or more when there was a sudden show of interest and turning of heads, and Bertoli entered. What interested Antoine even more was that the famous tenor was accompanied by a young woman with a head of glorious fair hair. They sat down at a table not far away and Antoine could now see that Bertoli's companion was decidedly THE VILLA AT NEUILLY 219 beautiful. The two attracted a great deal of atten- tion, but they seemed not to notice it, so much were they interested in each other. Bourdot, scenting copy, was awake on the instant. "I wonder who she is? What a complexion. She is a beauty. English or American? There is no doubt about it, there are beautiful women even outside France." "Do not look so closely at them," said Antoine. "I have something to tell you." And he recounted what he had seen after the duel. Bourdot and Morissot were amazed. "Then this empty villa is not empty," exclaimed the hero of the morning. "That is the conclusion I came to instantly," replied Antoine drily. "The point is why is Bertoli hiding himself in this secluded villa with the charming creature we now see sitting beside him? No doubt it is simply a little love affair, in which case we may let our interest in it end here. Who are we to sit as judges on the intimate aif airs of the most noted singer in the universe ? But I cannot help feeling that there may be something more behind it. That villa is certainly supposed to be empty. If not the present occupants would have re- vealed themselves this morning and prayed us to go and fight our duels elsewhere. But instead, they peeped guiltily from a window and disappeared the moment they were in danger of being observed. I think there may be something in this for La Lumiere." "They have just looked this way," said Bourdot. "Yes, but they don't know that they were observed this morning. They are merely interested at the coinci- dence of finding us here. And by the way, who is this Comte de Peyrac to whom we are told the villa belongs?" Bourdot obliged with alacrity. 220 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "Sportsman and man about town. Young, fairly wealthy, takes a keen interest in aviation. Has had many love affairs. I have not heard anything of him for some time past. I suppose that, as Severin- Blanchard said, he must be abroad. Where does he come in?" "Well, either he is a friend of Bertoli's or Bertoli has entered the villa burglariously, which is not likely. By the way, when does Bertoli appear next at the Opera?" "To-night in Manon." "I have never heard him. If it is possible to get a ticket at such a late hour I will give myself that pleasure this evening." "Leave it to me, and you shall have the ticket if it is humanly possible. The place is packed every night he sings and there is always a crowd clamoring for admit- tance. It will not be easy, but I think I shall be able to manage it." "Bon Dieu, but what a position," sighed Antoine. "The world hanging on every note you sing, gold roll- ing in by the barrel, ladies sighing for your smile. It is better than being an Emperor." They rose from their table a few moments later and went out leaving Bertoli and his fair companion still in the restaurant. Antoine was sorry to lose sight of the tenor, but it was obvious that even if there were any- thing more than usually interesting in the affair of the villa at Neuilly, there was no possibility of following it up immediately. The three directors separated outside, hurrying off to pressing affairs that had been neglected in the excite- ment of preparing for the duel. Arrived at the office, Antoine first of all gave a few particulars to Durand and sent him out on a tour of investigation. It was towards six in the evening, and Antoine, busy THE VILLA AT NEUILLY at work, had forgotten for the moment the events of the morning, when Bourdot entered his room waving a flimsy piece of paper. "It would sound like a romantic novel if I described to you the shifts to which I have been put to get this ticket," he announced. "My quest ended at the Ministry of the Interior. But there you are. The President himself could not have performed a greater miracle." "A thousand thanks, mon cher Bourdot. You will be there yourself, of course." "Box twelve on the second tier will find me. We will meet during the entr* acte." Some two and a half hours later Antoine ascended the splendid staircase of the Opera House. He was but one of hundreds who had entered the doors of the great building at the same moment. It hurt the pride of Parisians a little that Bertoli, who was not one of them, should pack the national temple of music as no one else could, but this did not prevent Paris from flocking to hear him on the very few occasions when his fabulous engagements in New York, London and elsewhere, per- mitted him to pay a rare visit. Antoine felt a thrill of pleasure and excitement as he settled down in his stall and looked round the huge auditorium with its tiers of boxes and far-away gal- leries. The air was vibrant with the hum of conver- sation from thousands of people. The name of Bertoli was spoken on every hand, and those who had heard him before were importantly assuring those who had not what a wonder and delight lay in store for them. After a quarter of an hour's delay, which was received with calm, as being the way of the Opera, the splendid orchestra played the overture to "Manon." There was another pause after this, and the audience sat in mo- 222 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE mentary expectation of seeing the curtain rise. But the minutes ran on, and signs of impatience began to show themselves. Half an hour late! This was too much. Again the orchestra attacked the overture, and at this people said sagely that evidently there had been a little delay of some kind, and the curtain would now rise the moment the orchestra had finished. But again there was a pause, and the great multitude fidgeted. There came a few whistles and shouts from the gallery and gradually the shouting gathered in volume until thousands of people were shouting "Curtain, curtain!" in chorus. This orderly demand soon gave way to a confused uproar in which impatient and angry people gare rent to their feelings in all sorts of ways. Pres- ently with the tumult at its height there was a move- ment in the center of the vast curtain, and a small figure in evening dress stood facing the great audience. Quiet was obtained with difficulty. The personage in evening dress, obviously disliking his task, then an- nounced that owing to an unforeseen circumstance Bertoli was unable to appear that evening. This was deeply to be regretted, but he had pleasure in saying that an excellent remplagant in the person of Monsieur Jules Dubosq would sing the part of des Grieux. M. Dubosq must have been excessively annoyed at the demonstration that followed. The great house burst into a tornado of rage and disappointment. To be told this after waiting impatiently for nearly an hour! Antoine turned round in his seat and looked on what seemed to be an angry sea. Thousands of people below and aloft who had paid high prices to see Bertoli were shouting and waving their arms. It was an im- pressive sight, but Antoine was thinking of something else. What was behind this nonappearance of Bertoli? He left his seat and as quickly as possible made his way THE VILLA AT NEUILLY 223 to the box in which Bourdot had said he would be. Opening it without ceremony Antoine saw Bourdot, in the middle of a party of friends, looking down on the extraordinary scene of the most majestic theatre in the world given up to pandemonium. Antoine took his arm and drew him out into the corridor. "Eh bien, what do you think of it?" he demanded sharply. "It is an amazing sight," said Bourdot fervently, "I have never seen anything like it." "Peste, I am not referring to that absurd exhibition ! A lot of foolish people howling because they cannot have their money's worth. Let them howl! But Bertoli and the villa at Neuilly ! Now what do you say? Is it merely coincidence, or is there something sinister behind this? Bertoli would not dare to disappoint the public without grave cause. He was in perfect health this morning." Bourdot opened his eyes wide. "Dame, I had not thought of that ! . . . Bon Dieu, but perhaps you are right ! Wait. I will get my hat and coat." He darted back into the box, and was by Antoine's side again in an instant. "It would be as well before starting out on this affair to find out what the official version is here of Bertoli's failure to appear. You know this place, is it not ?" "I have the run of it. It is a privilege accorded to few," said Bourdot proudly. "Come with me." He started off at a run along the corridor, descended an unexpected staircase and stopped before a small door at which an imposing individual wearing a large silver chain round his neck was stationed. Bourdot said something, slipped a five-franc pjece into the man's hand and the magic door opened to them. A few steps forward and they found themselves in a 224 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE vast and lofty region of canvas and cordage. Groups of people, some of them rouged and in the costume of the eighteenth century, were standing here and there, their faces drawn and serious. An overwhelming up- roar still came from the audience, and here, behind the scenes, it seemed in no wise ridiculous, but wholly alarm- ing. Antoine had a sudden rush of sympathy for those who had to face such unpleasant music. The stage was set for the first scene of Manon the inn at Amiens, where des Grieux first meets his charmer. Here were assembled a number of important-looking people belonging to the Opera House and one of them stood a little apart, his face contorted as if with the effort to shut out the noise that came from beyond the lowered curtain. Here Bourdot approached, and spoke loudly in his ear. "Why has Bertoli not appeared?" he cried. "He is indisposed," came the answer faintly. "Non, mais voyons!" cried Bourdot. "What is the real reason?" The official shrugged his shoulders and threw his hands up with a gesture of despair. "We know as much as you. He is not at his hotel. We have scoured Paris for him. He is not to be found anywhere. We are desperate. That is all." And the distracted man turned away. Bourdot gave Antoine the news. "That is enough. Come, to the office first. Durand may have found out something that will help us." Bourdot led him swiftly along a maze of corridors where at last the noise of the audience grew faint, and so out of the rear of the building by a door unknown to the public. They ran towards the boulevard, picked up a taxi at the corner and a few minutes later were bound- ing up the office steps. THE VILLA AT NEUILLY 225 They found Durand engaged with the head printer in the exciting sport of throwing darts at a board. Durand followed them at once into Antoine's room. "What do you know?" said Antoine. "Not much," replied the office investigator. "Bertoli has been staying at the Majestic, as he usually does. But as far as I can make out he is seen there very little. He seems to pass his nights outside. I got this from a clerk in the reception office. But where he goes to I've no idea, and I don't think anybody at the hotel knew either." "And the Comte de Peyrac?" "I have searched for him everywhere but I am sure he is not in Paris. There seems no doubt of his being abroad, but where I can't find out." "Hm ! There is not much in all that, is there ? There is only one thing to do. We must go to Neuilly and see what that brings forth ... It will be very dark round that villa. Can you put your hand on such a thing as an electric torch, Durand?" "I have one in my desk. I will get it." He returned in a moment with the torch and some- thing else that shone brightly. "I don't know what the affair is, but is this likely to be useful?" He handed over a handy-looking re- volver. "Careful. It is loaded." "Excellent" said Antoine pocketing both. "I have neved used one, but it gives a feeling of security to have it there. Bourdot mon cher, you had better return to the Opera and watch developments there. Durand, you come along with me to Neuilly. I will tell you all about it on the way out." 226 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE HALF an hour later they stopped their taxi a short dis- tance from the villa. Antoine bestowed a substantial tip on the driver, and told him to wait patiently, no matter for how long. "I have an idea," he said as they walked along. "It is possible there is nothing in all this, and we might look foolish if caught prowling about the grounds of a villa at night. We will say, in that case, that a valuable diamond ring was lost during the duel this morning, and that we have come to look for it. And mind, we understand always that the place is empty." They came to the gate. The front of the villa facing the avenue was dark, giving no sign of life. Antoine gently tried the gate. It opened and they passed cau- tiously along the path to the back of the villa. Gradually they gained the lawn. It was an eerie adventure and Antoine felt anything but cheerful as they stood there in the black darkness. There was no sound but the mournful rustling of the wind in the trees. Then from somewhere on the river came the melancholy hoot of a tug. It died away in a wail, leaving the silence more depressing than before. In an upstairs room a light was burning. It was the room in which Antoine had seen Bertoli that morning. He whispered this information to his companion. "What are we to do next?" whispered Durand in reply. "Ma foi, I don't quite know," returned Antoine. He felt convinced now that Bertoli was in the villa, and that some unusual cause was keeping him there. But ihow to solve the mystery? "Does the river flow past the bottom of the garden?" Antoine explained the lie of the grounds. THE VILLA AT NEUILLY 227 "Listen, then. Is not that the sound of a motor boat approaching?" "You're right. . . . Teuf ! teuf ! . . . there it goes again." The sounds came nearer and then at the bottom of the garden there was a sudden flurry of sound from a fussy little engine, and all was quiet again. "Somebody landing here. We will stay where we are, and take our chance," said Antoine. The two waited, strung up to a high pitch of ner- vous tension. It seemed ages before they heard any- thing more. Then there was the sound of somebody advancing through the shrubbery. These sounds ceased and Antoine thought he heard the faint hiss of whispering. Then another rustling of bushes, coming nearer. Presently Antoine felt that somebody was standing on the lawn near to them. He could stand the suspense no longer. In any case some step forward had to be made. Almost involuntarily he pulled the electric torch from his pocket and pressed the button. Antoine nearly fell over with astonishment at what he saw. Standing bathed in a flood of intense white light was Inspector Sauvage, and with him his faithful subordinate Pince. Inspector Sauvage was even more astonished. His eyes started from his head with the shock of this unex- pected encounter. His aspect of surprise and conster- nation was almost comic. But he soon recovered his composure and slipped a hand quickly into a side pocket. "Who is it ?" he demanded hoarsely, raising his voice as little as possible. "Have no fear," said Antoine. "It is I, Antoine Poiret, with a friend." 228 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE In his turn Sauvage produced a pocket lamp and flashed it over the two. He took a quick step towards them, and there was another expression on 'his face now. "Nom de D . . . /" he growled savagely. "Can one never get rid of you and La Lumiere then ? Must one find you everywhere? How much do you know of this affair?" "Quite a lot," said Antoine confidently. "But, voyez-vous, Inspector, there is no need to get angry with us. This matter has developed very quickly as far as I am concerned. That villa conceals something I am very anxious to know. But the affair has arrived at a point where extreme delicacy is necessary, and I was just wondering in what way I could soonest get into touch with you." "C'est ires gentil de votre part," replied the In- spector most sarcastically. "But I have had this villa under observation for the past three weeks." "And as Bertoli failed to appear at the Opera to- night you have come to find out the reason why." "What! Bertoli did not appear to-night at the Opera ! How do you know that ?" The detective's voice showed that the news was a disagreeable shock to him. "Parbleu, I was there! After nearly an hour of waiting the audience shouted for him. There was a scene I can tell you when it was announced that he could not appear." "Nom d'un nom! And the reason?" "Officially that he was indisposed. But in truth the Opera officials had scoured Paris for him and could not find him. They had no idea where he was." Sauvage uttered something like a groan. The con- THE VILLA AT NEUILLY 229 versation had taken place in the dark but Antoine could feel the agitation of the Inspector. "It is that sacre breakdown," the voice of Pince broke in. Sauvage cursed through set teeth. "Sacrebleu! Every night for three weeks we have been watching and nothing has happened. To-night that miserable boat broke down and when we had patched it up we decided to come on here before going to the telephone. Ah, but what vile luck. Ah mats . . .!" Sauvage stopped suddenly. An automobile was heard in the avenue. It stopped outside the gate. Voices were heard, and the click of the gate. Presently a lan- tern appeared swinging in somebody's hand and cast- ing a waving patch of light on the ground. Who was it? Two electric torches flashed out. They showed the picturesque figure of Severin-Blanchard. He was hold- ing the lantern, and behind him stood a chauffeur. "What the devil is this?" shouted the newcomer angrily as the dazzling light struck in his eyes. "Who are you?" Antoine stepped forward and shone the light on his own fa -e. "You !" cried Severin-Blanohard. "Mais c'est extraor- dinaire. I have come on behalf of that poor Dupuy. He is a little feverish, to-night and nothing would com- fort him unless I came here at once. He says he has lost a valuable diamond ring, and I have come to try 'and find it." "Non, mats nom d'une pipe!" murmured Antoine. 230 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE VI EXPLANATIONS were hurried, and left most people con- cerned in some bewilderment. But it was time for action. "If anybody is in that villa they must know by now that somebody is here outside it," said Sauvage. "To the front, quick, Pince! I will stay here. Stand by the door and let nobody come out of it." He flashed his lamp boldly over the house, and the light danced in through the windows. But there was no sign of movement. Sauvage mounted a small flight of steps leading on to a terrace and knocked loudly at the door. After an interval he knocked again but there was no sign that anybody was inside. Then he tried the handle, the door opened and he stepped inside. Antoine had followed him closely and was on his heels as the detective entered the villa. The others followed. Sauvage turned round as if to protest but seemed to realize that circumstances were against any autocratic display of authority. Antoine was aflame with curiosity. What was about to be revealed to them in the mysterious villa? The detective went about from room to room opening doors and flashing his light into every corner. It was a charmingly planned and furnished place and showed every trace of being at present occupied. But the ground floor drew blank. Sauvage ascended the staircase and stopped out- side the first door at the top. It was the room in which the light was burning. The detective turned the handle and walked inside. It was a large room furnished gorgeously in Eastern THE VILLA AT NEUILLY 231 style. Velvety Persian carpets covered the floor and the walls were hung with brass shields and crossed spears and scimitars. The room was in disorder the carpets twisted crookedly on the smooth parquet floor- ing, a table overturned and a blue Chinese vase lying smashed in fragments. But on a little inlaid gueridon a small brass lamp -was burning, throwing a soft faint light that left most of the room in deep shadow. Sauvage flashed his light round and gave a startled exclamation. Lying face downwards on a huge low divan that filled one corner was the figure of a man. The Inspector rushed forward and turned the figure over. He disclosed the face of a handsome young man of thirty or a little more, with a trim dark moustache. His light waistcoat was deeply stained with blood, and the cushious of the divan were soaked with it. Lying on the divan was a small sharp dagger, with a hilt richly decorated in Oriental style. This the detective picked up. "Mon Dieu it is the Comte de Peyrac !" It was Severin-Blanchard who had spoken. He stepped forward and bent over the body to examine it. "He is dead!" he cried with emotion. "Mon pauvre jeune ami! Who can have done this? Ah, my dear friend!" Sauvage and Antoine looked at each other. Each read the same thought in the eyes of the other. And yet it seemed incredible. Bertoli, of all people Ber- toli, the idol of two continents, an assassin! Antoine, bewildered, tried to puzzle the mystery out. He had not known what to expect in the quiet villa, but it certainly was not this. What was it a story of love and jealousy and hate? And the beautiful golden- haired girl what part had she played in the tragedy? Sauvage and Severin-Blanchard were now making a THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE more careful examination of the body. The rest of the group were standing apart, silent and reverential. Suddenly in the quiet room, hushed by the presence of death, a telephone bell rang out, shrill and insistent. It made everybody jump with a disagreeable shock. The ringing went on, impatient and alarming. The noise came from a far corner of the room. Antoine made a step towards a telephone standing on a wall bracket which everybody now perceived for the first time, but Sauvage brushed past him excitedly and seized the receiver. "Allo!" he shouted. "Yes. . . . Ah, mats . . ." He stopped in the middle of an angry exclamation and looked at Antoine with an expression of the keenest annoyance on his face. "Somebody is asking for you," he said, handing over the receiver angrily. "For me!" exclaimed Antoine incredulously. It was the most bewildering incident of the night. He put the receiver to his ear and heard Bourdot's voice making impatient noises. "C'est moi, Antoine," he called. "Ah, at last," said Bourdot. "Thank goodness I have got you. I took the chance that you would be inside the villa and rang up. Listen! Bertoli is here. He has appeared after all to-night over an hour late, but he is singing now. There have been extraordinary scenes! You cannot imagine! Come up at once and ask for the private room of the Comte de Peyrac at the Cafe de la Paix." "The Comte de Peyrac but he is lying dead in this room now," replied Antoine in a hushed voice. "Dead! Nonsense! I was with him a moment ago and have only just left him to come to the telephone." *'Ah sais-tu I don't know where I am! Then if THE VILLA AT NEUILLY 233 yours is the Comte de Peyrac who is this?" There was a buzzing on the line, Bourdot's voice grew faint and died away. "Ah, was there ever such a vile thing as the Paris telephone system!" cried Antoine. "But what is it, what is it?" exclaimed Sauvage, anger struggling with his natural professional curiosity. "It is fantastic, man cher Sauvage. I don't know where to begin. . . . Voila, Bertoli has appeared at the Opera after all. He was over an hour late, but he is singing at the present moment. And this unfortunate man here is not the Comte de Peyrac. Who he is I can't tell you. And that is all I know." He made a rush for the door. "Where are you going?" cried Sauvage in anguish. "Back to the Opera ! I want to hear the last of this wonderful performance of Bertoli's." But at the door- way he relented. There was a little debt he owed Sauvage. "If you will leave Pince here and follow on later to La Lumiere I will let you know anything that occurs. Aliens, Durand." VII THREE quarters of an hour later Antoine, a little shaken by the night's incidents, stepped into an elegant and cozy apartment on the first floor of the Cafe de la Paix. The room was empty, but the round table in the center was richly set for supper. Antoine, restless and excited, went to the window and drew aside the blind. Down the broad steps of the Opera a crowd was pouring, and the murmur of their voices reached him where he stood. There seemed to THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE be a thrill of excitement in the air as the multitude spread over the Place de 1'Opera and flowed right and left down the Boulevards. There was a noise at the door that made Antoine turn. The shocks of the evening were not yet over. Antoine quivered at what he saw. The young man who now entered was apparently none other than the one he had left lying dead on the divan out at Neuilly. Bourdot entered at the same instant. "Let me introduce you," he said promptly. "The Comte de Peyrac Monsieur Antoine Poiret, Director of La Lumiere." "C'est extraordinaire!" exclaimed Antoine, staring, fascinated. The newcomer smiled. "I am really the Comte de Peyrac. You are not the first who has been astonished on that account. But I think that my troubles in this matter are now at an end. My double will cause me no further worry." Antoine sat down suddenly. "Excuse me," he said, "but I have had a very trying evening. But I should like to know all there is to know." "I am only just disentangling it myself. It is a very extraordinary story." "If you only knew, Monsieur le Comte, how impatient I am to hear it." "Eh bien. It has got to come out, and you may as well know it early." The Comte paced slowly up and down the room as he talked. "As you see, I have, or had, a double. The like- ness, as I have been made to realize more than once to my cost, is extraordinary. This man, Rogier, was a footman in the house of a friend of mine. It is there, I suppose, that he was able to pick up the usages of THE VILLA AT NEUILLY polite society which enabled him successfully on many occasions to pose as myself. "I will not bother to recount to you the many annoy- ing and occasionally diverting incidents of this long deception. It is enough to say that some time ago Paris became too hot to hold Rogier, and at about the same time that I departed for a voyage in the East he decided to travel a little in America. "I only arrived back in Paris to-day after an ab- sence of six months, and you must understand that I have only learned all that follows within the past few hours. In America it seems my double, posing as usual as the Comte de Peyrac, made many conquests in love and friendship, and amongst others 'became intimately acquainted with the great Bertoli. It is quite evident that the famous tenor took a great fancy to the rogue, > and I think there is no doubt that on various pretexts he was inclined to advance him large sums of money. "Not long ago Bertoli met and fell in love with a beautiful American girl. I understand that of a con- siderable number of affairs of the heart from which the illustrious singer has suffered in his time, this is the only really serious one. She returned his passion and they decided to marry, but for various reasons both were anxious to keep the matter secret for a time. They crossed the Atlantic on the same liner, a matter which caused no comment, and, arrived in London, were married secretly. It seems that in London one can perform such little matters much more quietly and ex- peditiously than here. "Bertoli had taken the supposed Comte de Peyrac into his confidence, and the villain had readily offered nis help. He had a truly brilliant idea. Bertoli had to come on to Paris to fulfil his engagement. This im- postor then suggested that while in Paris, Bertoli and 236 [THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE his bride should use my villa my villa if you please ! for their honeymoon. The rogue knew it was empty, and that there would be little difficulty about obtaining an entrance. A set of duplicate keys is nothing to such a person. And thus while Bertoli ostensibly stayed at the Hotel Majestic, where he received his friends, he journeyed out every night to my house at Neuilly. It was an admirable arrangement and worked perfectly. A very few people were in the secret, and they kept it religiously. But this very day the happy couple had decided that at last they could give their secret to the world and for the first time they appeared in Paris together." "I saw her. She is magnificent," said Antoine fer- vently. "Then you will appreciate better what follows. My double had, naturally, been a constant visitor to Neuilly. He was the confidant of the happy couple, and they trusted him implicitly. They had, of course, no idea that they were in the hands of a thorough scoundrel. "Early this evening, then, Bertoli had occasion to be absent from the villa for an hour or more. It was the first time Rogier had really been alone with the lady, and he suddenly made the most violent and pas- sionate love to her. Thunderstruck, she resisted him, but once he had given a glimpse of his true character, the lackey threw off completely the mask of gentleman he had been wearing and behaved openly like the base rascal he is or was. "There was a violent struggle in which the terrified young lady found that their dear friend had suddenly become a vicious apache. Luckily she kept her head, and is strong and athletic. And in the struggle she managed to snatch one of my Eastern curios from the THE VILLA AT NEUILLY 237 wall and so saved herself from dishonor and rid the world of a villain. "Imagine the consternation an'd horror of Bertoli when half an hour later he returned and found the room in disorder, his wife lying in a faint and the sup- posed Comte de Peyrac lying dead! Imagine the anguish of these two suddenly faced with this appalling position! Imagine if you can but no, it is not pos- sible the consternation of these two when suddenly I, the real Comte de Peyrac, bearing a remarkable like- ness to the dead man, appear on the scene. I had only arrived in Paris an hour before, and with my valet had immediately gone to Neuilly." The Comte paused a moment in has pacing of the room and stared before him. "The scene, vraiment, passes imagination ! It seemed as though both Bertoli and his wife would go mad. I too was in a state of extreme emotion. But I contained myself and gradually as the truth came home to me, succeeded somewhat in calming them. The knowledge that the dead man was not the Comte de Peyrac but a notorious villain, had, for the moment, a certain bracing effect. Slowly they realized in whose hands they had been that they were, even, not the guests of the dead man but of myself. "They put themselves into my hands and begged me to help them. I said that if he could possibly bring himself to do it Bertoli ought to appear at the Opera to-night. For a long time he resisted the idea fiercely, but his wife joined her entreaties to mine, and at last 'he consented. The three of us came back to Paris and he appeared as you know more than an hour late. It was announced from the stage that he had been detained by a motor accident, but had insisted on appearing in epite of grave difficulties. And, mon Dieu, the recep- 238 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE tion he got! And sapristl! how he sang! Never before has his glorious voice throbbed with such passion and feeling. The house was delirious." The Comte sat down. Antoine drew a long breath. To think that the quiet villa at Ncuilly had been the scene of such a drama during the past few hours. "And Madame?" he asked softly. "I took her to a very quiet and discreet hotel. She has had a sleeping draught and is now in the hands of an excellent doctor. As to the rest the police have been informed. They and Bertoli may be here at any moment." "There is one further point. Why have the police been watching your villa so closely during the past three weeks?" "I heard of that a little while ago. The Opera au- thorities had become a little disquieted as to Bertoli's mysterious movements, and I imagine that it was on their account that the police were active." The door opened and Bertoli himself entered followed by a number of gentlemen in evening dress. The famous singer looked suddenly older. His face bore lines of suffering, and he seemed like a man suffering from an intense shock. It was no scene to intrude upon. Antoine gave a sign to Bourdot and they passed out. On the stairs they met Sauvage, Pince and another detective hurrying up. The inspector saluted them coldly and passed on without a word. In the cab Antoine leaned back wearily. "Say then, mon ami, was it this morning or a hun- dred years ago that Morissot fought his duel with Dupuy?" "It has been a wonderful day. And now for the task of writing about it. Columns and columns! It is glo- THE VILLA AT NEUILLY 239 rious but there is a lot of work ahead," Bourdot sighed. "Durand is waiting at the office to help. We will send out for champagne and something to eat." "All the same we shan't be able to get it into print before five o'clock." "Qu'importe! Paris will read it to-day, and that is all that matters. And, mon Dieu, what a story !" VIII SEVERIN-BLANCHAKD called at the office of La Lu- miere on the following afternoon to give his warmest congratulations. "My eyes started from my head this morning when I read La Lumiere," he exclaimed. "Dieu, quelle his- toire! To think all that happened in what we thought was an empty villa. And saves vous it has been of the greatest help to me. I am writing a new farce which is long overdue. I had arrived at the third act and I was stuck del! how I was stuck! I was in a hole, an oublietto, and could not get out. I had racked my brains for a month and nothing came of them. And now this wonderful business has given me my idea, the very idea I was looking for but could not find. The farce is as good as finished." "After tragedy farce. It is always like that in life," said Antoine. "And the diamond ring?" "Nom d'un nom I have never thought about it from that moment to this ! The poor Dupuy his fever will mount higher and higher. I must be off at once." CHAPTER VII THE GREATEST ADVENTURE To the Frenchman returning from abroad to the only country that really matters to him, Marseilles, though not to be compared to the splendid capital, is an excel- lent second a sort of worthy cousin with a marked family resemblance to incomparable Paris. Some such idea as this flitted through the mind of Monsieur Etienne Robespierre, savant and famous Egyptologist, as he sat before a bright cafe in the stately Cannebiere. Even the most loyal of Parisians will admit that the Cannebiere is a fine boulevard, and M. Robespierre looked with keen pleasure and interest on the prosperous and well-dressed Marseillais who passed up and down before him in the main thorough- fare of their ancient city. He had only landed late the night before after a long stay in Egpyt, and it was good to feel himself back in France again. A lifelong study of an ancient civiliza- tion had by no means dulled his interest in the people of his own day. On the contrary he thrilled respon- sively to this crisp activity of his own kind after his long poring and delving amid the remains of a bygone civilization. And that morning he would board the P. L. M. rapide, and by midnight find himself back in 240 THE GREATEST ADVENTURE his beloved Paris. Then to his comfortable little flat' in the Rue du Cherche Midi, surrounded by a thousand objects that were dear to him. The thought was good to dwell upon. In the very best of humors he sipped his cool and golden bock. It was a hot morning, the last day of July. The newspapers which he had been reading lay before him on the little table. They contained matters of grave import, but somehow on this sparkling morn- ing, with all these unconcerned and happy-looking people passing up and down in the sunshine, M. Robes- pierre could not take them seriously. No, no! Such storms had blown up in Europe before. This one would pass away, as so many others had done before it. War? Impossible! What did a happy world want with such a monstrous thing? But as he looked contentedly before him another ex- pression came into his keen and mobile face. On the pavement, strolling slowly past the cafe were two young men, at sight of whim M. Robespierre's thoughts turned into quite another path. The taller of the two was none other than Prince Ernst of Saxe-Wolmar, half cousin, and so it was gen- erally said, a warm favorite of that same potentate whose demeanor Europe was now watching with the greatest anxiety. The second young man was Count von Gassner, travelling companion of the Prince. They had been together in Cairo, where there had been some little wonderment as to why the Prince should be there so very far out of the season. His stay had been made as pleasant as possible under the circum- stances and there were even stories that he had tried to make too much of the hospitality shown him, but this, it was argued by some, was only to be expected in the case of a Prince abroad, and a German one at that. THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE M. Robespierre during his stay in Cairo had been fully conversant with the Prince's visit and his doings, and, like everybody else, understood that a day or so before his own departure, the Prince and his companion had left in their steam yacht for a cruise in Greek and Turkish waters. Then why this unlooked for appear- ance in Marseilles? That was the question, in view of what he had read in the papers, that occurred at once to M. Robespierre. The two stopped in their walk and then sat down on the cafe terrace, at a table just near him. "It is pleasant here," said the Prince. "I would willingly stay on a little in Marseilles. . . . But this is not quite the time for it now." And he laughed. "What time do we get to Paris midnight, is it not ?" said the other. The Prince nodded. "Our stay there, too, will be short. But let us hope we shall have more leisure for a visit a little later on." The two exchanged smiles. Their conversation had been in German, a language with which M. Robespierre, much against his natural inclinations, had a consid- erable acquaintance. There was something about what he had heard which struck him as disagreeable, even sinister. The laugh of the Prince, the smile which the two men had ex- changed, seemed to be charged with some definite meaning. And after all, sunshine or not, the newspapers had never within his memory, with the exception perhaps of the disasters of Vawnee terrible over forty years before, contained such grave news as that which he had read within the last hour or so. He picked one up and cast his eye over it again. His glance fell on a telegram dated the night before from Vienna. THE GREATEST ADVENTURE 243 "During the course of the evening," it ran, "the French, British and Russian Ambassadors have all called on the Minister for Foreign Affairs, and had long interviews with him. Their demeanor as they left gave little cause for optimism. It is reported that dtiring the day the German Ambassador was received by the aged Emperor. The general impression here is that matters have now gone so far that only something like a miracle can avert the threatened catastrophe." "Bon Dieu!" exclaimed M. Robespierre. He had read that message before during the morning, and had tried to dismiss it from his mind as the effort of a journalist making the most of an exciting situation. But now, somehow, he saw it in quite another light. Its gravity could not be ignored. He had a feeling of im- pending trouble, and the sunlight on the Boulevard seemed suddenly colder. There has been a hint of a European crisis when he left Egypt, but it had developed swiftly during his voyage, and that was perhaps why he had not at first been sufficiently receptive to what the newspapers told him. But now he had no illusions as to the gravity of the moment. The Prince's change of plans if it was a change and his hurried journey northwards were enough. M. Robespierre felt as if he had received a cold douche. After a little while the Prince and his companion rose and left. M. Robespierre, with surprising activity for one of his years, jumped up a moment later and hastened to the nearest telegraph office. He and the Prince were travelling to Paris on the same train. It had occurred to him that it would be as well to send a telegram to his friends on La Lumiere. THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE II ANTOINE and Bourdot went to the Gare de Lyon to meet M. Robespierre. Paris was electric with anxiety and suspense, and in every newspaper office people were standing about in groups awaiting the latest news and discussing the situation earnestly. But M. Robespierre held such a high place in the regard of the three directors of La Lumiere that they would have put anything aside to meet him. As their com- panion in the adventure at Monte Carlo which had resulted in their succession to the control of the paper, they felt they owed him a great deal. Only the great pressure of the moment had prevented Morissot from coming to the station also. . . . And besides M. Robes- pierre's telegram had aroused a certain amount of curi- osity in the minds of Antoine and his confreres. The meeting was a most cordial one. M. Robespierre hopped out of the long train like a young man in his thirties. They complimented 'him on his vigor and youthful appearance. "And La Lumiere, eh?" exclaimed M. Robespierre. "It goes splendidly, does it not? I have been able to perceive that even amidst my mummies. . . . But tell me, things are grave, are they not? Is it really as bad as it seems? Understand, I am out of touch a little." "We are hoping the incredible will not happen," said Antoine gravely. "But that is all." "Ha ! And so that is how you feel in Paris ! Your tone is enough to tell me. I have also had something to think about on the journey up from Marseilles. My telegram hinted that I had something to tell you, eh? You see those two men who have just stepped out of the door there? The first, the tall fair one, is Prince THE GREATEST ADVENTURE 245 Ernst of Saxe-Wolmar, first favorite of the great War Lord. The other does not matter. But I have some- thing to say to you about this Prince. You will per- haps appreciate what it means better than I." And M. Robespierre told them what he had overheard. "What do you think?" he asked, when he had fin- ished. "At an ordinary time one would think little or nothing," said Antoine. "But now it may mean any- thing. Non, vraiment, I do not like it! A short stay in Paris now, but more leisure for a visit later on! It seems to me to have a sinister meaning." "So I thought," said M. Robespierre, with some sat- isfaction. "That well-dressed young man who has just gone up to greet them is a secretary at the German Embassy. I know him well by sight," Bourdot said. "We must keep our eye on this Prince Ernst." An- Itoine was tugging at his beard, his eye fixed on the royal visitor who was chatting now with the secretary. "M. Robespierre, you understand German. Why not go to the same hotel as the Prince? Bourdot shall follow them in a taxi. You come on with me to the office with your luggage, and when Bourdot has found out which hotel it is, you go there and keep an eye on his royal highness. I will come with you. What do you say?" M. Robespierre thought regretfully for a moment of his comfortable flat which he was so anxious to see again, but it was only for a moment. "Bien! You are right. They will perhaps be off before I can have collected my luggage. Let Bourdot secure a taxi, and wait for them. You, mon cher An- toine, come and help me to collect my luggage. There is quite a lot of it." 246 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE It was half an hour before they were able to leave the station, with the bulk of Robespierre's luggage left behind in the cloak room. At the offices of La Lumiere they found Morissot reading the proof of an article on the latest phase of the international situation. He broke off to welcome M. Robespierre enthusiastically. "It seems a long time ago since we found you, furi- ous, in the police station at Dijon," said Morissot, with one of his rare laughs. The little Egyptologist laughed heartily. "I have often thought of it, out amidst my tombs. And that Commissaire, hein? What a perfect, what a beautiful liar he was ! Mais quel aplomb!" They were deep in the enjoyment of this souvenir of their first meeting when Bourdot entered. His ap- pearance brought them back to realities. "What hotel?" asked Antoine. "The Grand Imperial." "Isn't that the hotel where the famous Kastner is manager ?" "The same. And the good Kastner bowed his fore- head to the ground when the Prince entered." "A perfect aest of them," said M. Robespierre acidly. "It goes against my inclinations to be near them. But I have done it before in the cause of science, and I can do it again in the cause of France. Come, we will be off immediately. It is late." They drove off at once. In spite of the late hour there were many people still about the streets, and on the terraces of the cafes others were sitting. Paris "was too excited, too intensely interested to think of going to bed. Their taxi hummed swiftly up the broad Champs Elysees. It was after one o'clock when they arrived THE GREATEST ADVENTURE 247 in the sumptuous entrance hall of the Grand Imperial. A massive hotel porter whose countenance, in their present mood, seemed to shout Teutonism to the vis- itors, received them deferentially. The visitors' book was handed to them, and the two scanned it with the keenest interest. Von Gassner's name was there, but the Prince's identity was concealed under a title which, scrawled hurriedly, it was difficult to make out. "We may be here only a few days," said Antoine, "'but we should like if possible a large salon with two bedrooms opening off it." The functionary consulted a list. "Bien, Messieurs. We have such a suite on the first floor. Your luggage shall be sent up immediately. I will take you up." They entered a lift, and a few moments later were shown into a large room furnished in the quiet but sumptuous style of a first-class modern hotel-de-luxe. "I know it is very late," said Antoine. "But would it be possible to have something to eat? Anything cold chicken, a bottle of white wine ;any thing you can find." The Teutonic hall porter promised that he would do what was possible, and withdrew. "Judging by the numbers," said Antoine, "we must be somewhere near our friends. I took that chance in asking for a large salon . . . And it will do no harm to eat something. At any rate it gives us the chance to be up and active." "Excellent ! And I am hungry. One always is after leaving a train. And there is much that we can talk about." Their conversation fell on tihe one possible topic, and Antoine acquainted his friend in full with the latest developments of the situation which a few days before 248 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE had seemed but one of Europe's periodical crises, to be passed after the usual negotiations of the diplo- matists, but now filled every heart with foreboding. They were in the middle of their conversation when a waiter entered with a tray and busied himself with laying the table. Antoine looked at the man as he worked silently and rapidly. "Good evening, Labiche," said Antoine quietly. The waiter jumped as if struck and looked at An- toine with an expression of amazement in his eyes. Then he turned to the table again with an affectation of carelessness. "Pardon, Monsieur, but my name is Prunier," he said and went on with his work. "An excellent French name, and surprising enough to find in a German hotel," said Antoine. "But I have a good memory for names and faces . . . It is perhaps three or four years ago: I happened to be present at the Seine Assize Court, interested as a spectator in a certain case. There was an agent des mceurs who gave evidence concerning a certain person who not long be- fore, I had every reason to believe, had skilfully relieved me of my pocketbook in a Montmartre night "cafe. . It was entirely owing to your evidence I re- member, that the lady received six months' imprison- ment on another charge . > -.. You have traveled far since then no doubt." "Who are you?" said the waiter bluntly looking An- toine straight in the eyes. "My name is Poiret. I am Director of La Lumiere." "Ah! I have heard of you." "From our mutual friend, Inspector Sauvage?" in- quired Antoine. The waiter ignored the question. THE GREATEST ADVENTURE 249 "I am no longer a police agent," he said. "I have been here over a year. I am now a waiter." "Nonsense," said Antoine, pleasantly but with decision. The two men stared hard at each other. Labiche appeared to be thinking hard. Then he became the waiter again. "If Monsieur will excuse me I will now fetch your supper," he said, and left the room. The old savant gripped Antoine by the arm. "When one is with you extraordinary things happen apparently," he said. "What do you make of it. You order supper. A waiter appears. And he proves to be a detective. Hein?" "At any rate he is a French detective," said Antoine. "It seems to me that quite possibly our friends the police are more interested in Herr Kastner's existence than he is probably aware of. Perhaps it was unwise of me to speak to Labiche like that but I did it impul- 'sively. And one never knows. It may be for the best." "And you think this man Labiche is specially inter- ested in the Prince?" "I should think it unlikely. He says he has been ihere a year. He therefore lives here on general prin- ciples and quite possibly has no knowledge of the sudden arrival of the royal visitor." The waiter appeared again with another tray. He set the supper and announced that all was ready. The two friends sat down. They ate with Labiche in attendance on them. He was an excellent waiter. M. Robespierre talked freely of his latest work in Egypt, and for the time being, affairs of greater moment were left on one side. Sup- per over, Labiche made several journeys from the room, and finally stood at the door. 250 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "Bonsoir, messieurs.*' "Bonsoir, et merci." Labiche stood a moment irresolute. "You will readily understand," he said, addressing Antoine, "bhat it would not be good for my work as a waiter here if it were known that I had been in certain other employment. There are very few Frenchmen employed in this hotel. I obtained my own situation with considerable difficulty. Monsieur will under- stand that discretion . . ." "These are grave times, Labiche," said Antoine look- ing hard at the other. "They are times when every Frenchman must be loyal to every other." "Parfaitement." The waiter bowed and closed the door behind him. M. Robespierre looked at his watch. "My friend, I am extremely tired," he exclaimed. "I think we had better go to bed. There is nothing to be gained by stopping up." "You are right," said Antoine. "At any rate I think we shall sleep nearer to the heart of things to- night than most people in Paris." Ill WITH one possible exception the Grand Imperial was the most expensive hotel in Paris. But in return for its charges it tried to give its guests the benefit of every modern convenience, and when Antoine awoke somewhere about eight o'clock the first thing he no- . ticed was a telephone within easy reach of his hand. He unhooked the receiver and rang up the office, giving a message that when Bourdot and Durand came in they should be requested to call on him at the hotel. THE GREATEST ADVENTURE 251 And just after Antoine and M. Robespierre had finished a light breakfast the man of fashion and the office in- vestigator both appeared. "Nothing has happened," said Antoine. "We are staying on the same floor as his Royal Highness, that is all. He is along the corridor there, in the next suite. There is just one point." And he mentioned his dis- covery of Labiche. "I remember him well," broke in Durand. "It is true ... I have not seen him about for a long time . . .1 After all, a Paris hotel is the last place one Parisian would meet another." "Labiche is not really in Paris at all," said Antoine. The others looked at him in surprise. "He is in Ger- many. So are we all in this room. Half an hour ago I walked along the corridor. I saw a bullet-headed waiter coming out of the rooms of our Prince. I walked down to the entrance hall to buy the morning papers. The great Kastner himself was just crossing it, and he stopped to speak to an under-manager who has cer- tainly modeled his moustache on the Kaiser's. And the porter who sent a page boy for me to the newspaper kiosk might have been a Prussian guardsman. One does not notice these things so closely at ordinary times, but during my little promenade I felt that I had crossed the Rhine . . . And now, mes amis, I suggest that as unobtrusively as possible you two make this place a sort of headquarters for the time being. Be- tween you there are few notable people in Paris you do not know something about. We may be sure this Prince is not here as a mere Teuton tourist. He is travelling incognito and witih the situation as it is he would be hurrying on to Germ-any if he had not some good reason for staying. We must try and manage that as little as possible happens in this hotel that we 252 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE do not know about. We have had many interesting experiences together on La Lumiere but this should easily exceed them all." "Good," said Durand. "I will begin with the Ameri- can Bar and make myself at home fchere." And he went out. M. Robespierre had sat very quiet during all this. There was a hint of amusement in his keen eyes as he spoke following Durand's departure. "All this is very exciting, mon cher Antoine. But I confess I do not see where you are to begin. And back in Paris on this bright July morning, with the pleasant hum of the Champs Elysees below . . . some- how I cannot feel that the world is thinking of plung- ing into war. Nor can I quite feel that this luxurious but otherwise quite ordinary hotel is the home of inter- national plots. Perhaps it is that I am so much out of touch, or that I am itching to see my old flat in the Rue du Cherche Midi. I think I will go there." Antoine smiled. "You said yourself last night that extraordinary things seem to happen when I am about. It has been noticed before. But when you go out you will feel that something extraordinary is happening everywhere, to everybody all around you. For a week past this ten- sion has been growing. We have had crises before, but never one that felt like this. There is not one rea- sonable being in Paris at this moment who is not talking about one thing does it mean war? And most of us are convinced against all our hopes and wishes that it does. A week ago nobody would have dreamed that a wrangle in the Balkans would mean war for Europe. But the crisis instead of diminishing has intensified with every hour. To-day there is hardly a single indi- vidual in touch with affairs who thinks that we have THE GREATEST ADVENTURE 253 the slightest chance of escaping war the war of mil- lions that has been talked about for years past, but which nobody has ever really visualized. Now we know we are on the very edge of it. To-morrow we may be in it . . . And I feel that the last push may just as likely come from within this hotel as from anywhere else." Antoine had spoken very quietly but the old gentle- man looked very thoughtful. "You impress me, in spite of myself," he said. "I don't want to believe you . . . but you almost make me. I will go out all the same, and I shall return here some time during the day." "What do you propose to do," asked Bourdot after the Egyptologist had left them. "The situation does not seem very clear to me." "As you say it is a little vague," said Antoine. "There is nothing to tell us where to begin, or on what. But it occurs to me . . . the Prince has telephones in has rooms, as we have here. He is staying incognito. It is more than likely that he will send or receive messages by that means . . .If only we could tap his wires." "Yes, but how?" "Yes, how? Listen, Bourdot. There is that excel- lent man Georges who does all the electrical work in our offices. He is of good presence. You must go and find him and bring him here. Tell him only just as much as is necessary and be back with him as early as possible this afternoon. I suggest that you put him in one of your suits and attend to his toilet as far as is necessary. He must not, of course, suggest the work- man when he comes here. Let him bring whatever may be required wire, a portable telephone anything. Buy him a neat little leather case for those and his THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE tools. The idea is that he will have to try and guess from inside these rooms where the wire runs to the Prince's apartment, and tap it. Explain that as wel) as you can to him you have a general idea as to how the rooms run. Offer him a thousand francs if neces- sary. And if he can't do it in his disguise as a gentle- man we shall have to see what can be done by means of his boldly invading the royal presence as a simple tele- phone employee, who is examining the instrument. There is no risk. Only a little bluff is needed. . . . I think that is all for the moment. You can do this, mon vieux Bourdot?" "I have done many curious things for you," said Bourdot. "No doubt I shall be able to manage this also. ... I should not have the slightest belief in your scheme except that I have known others just as extraordinary to succeed." "Mon cher ami, the great Danton was wonderfully right. Audacity always succeeds. So many people live by convention that they are always out-manoeuvred by the few who depart from the rules. And now that this point is settled I know what my next move is." "And what may it be?" asked Bourdot. "Lunch," said Antoine. rv MONSIEUR ROBESPIERRE heaved a little sigh of relief and content as he stepped out of the hotel into the open air and sunshine. His homecoming had been shorn of its expected joy and welcome. When working in the fierce light and heat of Egypt his thoughts constantly dwelt on his cool and comfortable flat, with its in- numerable souvenirs, precious or sentimental, of his long THE GREATEST ADVENTURE 255 and busy life. He had lived there over thirty years and had no desire to live anywhere else. His short stay in the big hotel had bored him, as being a sheer waste of valuable time. The atmosphere of plot and suspicion had not impressed so much as irritated him. He was nostalgic for his own mellow haunts, and the night in the severely modern hotel with his own home so near had been a burden on his mind and heart. His spirits revived wonderfully as he walked briskly down the slope of the Champs Elysees. Paris smiled her old welcome to him, as she had done so many times before after his periodical absences. There was so far nothing to show that she had a care on her mind. Her mood was apparently his own one of lightness and content. The swift motor traffic whirled joyously up and down the broad avenue whose polished surface, bur- nished by innumerable wheels, threw back the morning sun as from a mirror. Swinking his cane he arrived, without slackening his pace, at the Place de la Concorde, dodged with extraor- dinary agility the bewildering traffic that shot across it from all directions, crossed the river, his eye lighting up at the splendid prospect of the quais that opened before him, and continued on his way through the quarter of Paris he loved best. A little later he turned into the dark entrance to the old-fashioned but comfortable apartment which for so long had been his home. He saw his old concierge sit- ting in her lodge, and thought with some pleasure of the surprise his sudden appearance in the doorway would give. To his amazement old Mme. Villon merely looked up and holding out an envelope which she had just picked up from the table said: "Here is a letter for you, Monsieur. It was left here an hour ago with the strictest injunctions that I must 256 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE let you have it the moment you came in. It is very important." The returned exile was very much taken aback. "Sapristi! Is that how you greet your old locataire after such a long absence?" he exclaimed. Mme. Villon gave a little cry. "But if it is not Monsieur Robespierre! Welcome! A thousand welcomes ! For the moment, as you stood there with your back to the light, I thought it was Monsieur Haase . . ." "A German ! It is nothing but Germans !" exclaimed the old gentleman, considerably nettled. "My key, quick! I am impatient to see my appartement." He seized the key himself from the nail where he knew it hung, and ran lightly upstairs, paying no heed to something Mme. Villon called after him. He heaved a sigh of content as he stepped again into his own abode. It was an unsuspected treasure-house in the midst of Paris. He sat down in a favorite arm- chair and slowly surveyed his precious belongings. Everything was as he had left it on his last departure for Egypt to be arrested a few hours afterwards by that mutton-headed Police Commissary at Dijon. As he sat there he became aware of the letter in his hand which in the excitement of his homecoming he had for the moment forgotten. Much to his surprise he saw that the envelope bore the name of the hotel he had just left. "Extraordinary," he murmured. "One cannot escape these Germans. They seem to follow me about." He had a sudden desire to know what was in the let- ter, and acting on the impulse opened it. The name Haase on the envelope justified anything, and in any case this was hardly the time to bother too much about the niceties of conduct. THE GREATEST ADVENTURE 257 What he saw inside, written in German, surprised him still more. The letter was signed by von Gassner. It ran: "Events are impending which make it absolutely necessary for you to get into immediate touch with your former friends. These instructions have been received from the highest quarters. His Royal Highness, Prince Ernst of Saxe-Wolmar, wishes you to be here at ten o'clock to-night. If you give your name at the bureau you will be conducted to him immediately. The affair is important and urgent." M. Robespierre whistled softly to himself. He be- came aware that Mme. Villon was standing behind his chair, talking rapidly. She had apparently been talk- ing to him for some little time. "At first sight you are really quite alike, and when you stood there in the doorway I thought for the mo- ment that you were M. Haase ..." "Who is this individual you are talking about?" demanded the old gentleman raspingly. "The new tenant. He has been here six months." "What is he like?" "He is a very pleasant gentleman." "Does he receive many letters ?" "Very few indeed." "Listen, Mme. Villon. You have known me a long time. I have known you & long time. There can be perfect confidence between us. And I have arrived here just in time to discover that something dangerous something peculiar is happening. The whole point is to keep the police away from this place." Mme. Villon's eyes widened. M. Robespierre's man- ner was very impressive, even a little alarming. "What is it?" she quavered. "I cannot tell you at the moment. But the point is 258 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE that for the time being at any rate you must not men- tion this letter to Herr Haase. He is a German. Do not forget that. You must preserve absolute silence on the matter. Do you understand me?" "Perfectly, M. Robespierre." "That is well, then. Understand, the greatest dis- cretion. There are the gravest reasons for it. I will tell you more later. For the moment you must leave me to think the matter out." M. Robespierre's face relaxed into a smile as the old dame went out. But he was immediately grave again. There was something urgent and serious afoot here. He remembered Antoine's calm but telling exposition of the situation that morning. Truly he felt crisis in the air now. Here was something to tell Antoine. He must get back to the hotel as quickly as possible. Some time later in the afternoon Antoine sat in his bedroom at the hotel with a telephone receiver to his ear. Behind him stood an individual of rather am- biguous presence. He was attired in frock coat, striped trousers, patent boots and spats, but there was some- thing about him which did not quite accord with his imposing exterior. "It should be all right," he was saying, a little anxiously. "I feel sure I have tapped the right wire." Antoine made a motion with his hand. Then he laid the receiver down and turned to the electrician. "You have," he said. "Somebody has just tele- phoned down to the entrance hall to ask for the evening papers to be sent up. I heard every word quite clearly." "Then there is nothing more to 'be done, Monsieur Antoine?" "No, many thanks. I think that is all, Georges. It is excellently done. If there is any need to call on you again I shall know where to find you." THE GREATEST ADVENTURE 259 And the electrician, putting on a glossy tall hat and picking up a small leather case, departed. "That is good so far as it goes," murmured Antoine to himself as he regarded the illicit telephone. "The point is, how far will it go. . . .1 too, by the way, will ask for the evening papers." When they came up he saw that all were concentrat- ing on the desperate efforts being made by England to call an eleventh hour conference of the Powers with the hope of avoiding the catastrophe of war. There was little hope expressed that such a conference would be convened, or that it would do any good if it were. He was disturbed by the ring of a telephone bell. He ran to the bedroom, but discovered that it was his own instrument that was ringing and not the one con- nected with the Prince's suite. "Is that you, Antoine?" said a voice. "This is Robespierre. I want you to take a taxi and come o my rooms as soon as possible." "But, mon ami, I don't wish to leave here." "It is imperative. I have something most important to tell you, but it cannot be done on the telephone. Can- not you arrange with Bourdot? You can be back in half an hour. I should have communicated with you before, but I have been deep in my papers. Then I thought of the telephone. I am in a chemist's shop. It is imperative that you should come." "If it is so important, then. I will see Bourdot and start at once." In the hall Antoine Discovered the man of fashion reading a paper and keeping an eye open on all that was going on round him. "Sit on guard over the telephone," said Antoine, after explaining why he had to go out. "If there is any call 260 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE on the Prince's line the instrument will ring. I shall be back immediately." Antoine discovered M. Robespierre sitting at a desk deep in his papers. He exclaimed at the many beauti- ful things he saw around him. "It is a corner of ancient Egypt," he said. "Yes, and some day I will explain everything to you. But for the moment listen to what I have to tell you." And he recounted the incident of the letter intended for his double. "But this is amazing," cried Antoine. "We are cer- tainly on the track of something important. And who is this Herr Haase?" "I have not the slightest idea. I only know from what my concierge has told me, that he has not been in Germany for a long time. It is just possible that the Prince does not know him by sight." "And Herr Haase is commanded to meet the Prince at ten to-night. And he has not received the summons, but you have." Antoine spoke slowly, as if underlining his words. The two men looked steadily at each other for a moment. "It had occurred to me that I might take his place," said M. Robespierre calmly. "That is splendid of you," cried Antoine. "I knew you would say so." "There is just this one point. I may already have been noticed in the hotel." "I thought of that at once. But after all, only the night porter saw you enter. To-day you descended the stairs once to go out it is very likely that in the bustle of the place nobody noticed you. And again, it is not certain that the people at the hotel know Herr Haase." "My thoughts had run on exactly the same lines. THE GREATEST ADVENTURE 261 But I would give much to know who Herr Haase is." "I think I shall be able to help you there. Imme- diately on returning I will send Durand to the Pre- fecture to the Prefect of Police himself to find out all that can be found about him. They are sure to have some sort of dossier on him. I think the Prefect will help, if circumstances allow him. We have been very friendly since a certain little affair in which we met some time ago." "That is good. But how shall I learn what you have found out?" "You will come to the hotel in a taxicab. Stop it a few yards before you reach the hotel and remain inside. One of us will come to you and tell you anything we know. At a quarter to ten, say." "Bien. That is all for the moment, then. I have much more to occupy me. And wish me luck when I beard Messieurs les Allemands in their den to-night." "We shall be near you," said Antoine. They shook hands and he descended to his waiting taxi. He found Bourdot in a state of open excitement when he re-entered his rooms at the hotel. "There is news," announced the man of fashion, with importance. "Your great telephone idea has already justified itself. There was a ring. I listened. Some- body from the Prince's suite was speaking to somebody else. Who else I could not say. But the voice of this other person seemed familiar to me. And suddenly I recognized it a peculiar voice, unmistakable. Guess who it was." "But who ? Quick ! How could I tell you ?" "It was the voice of Schultze, first secretary at the German Embassy. I have talked with him many a time. Say, then, is it not extraordinary how my experience of fashionable Paris ..." 262 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "But, voyons, Bourdot! I will talk to you about your duchesses another time. What is the news?" "But consider. If I had not recognized that voice . . . " "True! True! You are right. It is extraordi- nary. And the news?" Antoine was dancing with excitement. "Well, as far as I could make out from the conversa- tion there is to be an important reunion here at the hotel to-night. And apparently somebody very important is to be here I think there is no doubt it is the German Ambassador. Is that interesting, hein?" "I should say it is. It may mean anything. You will agree when I tell you what I have just heard." And he told him of M. Robespierre and his double. "The storm is blowing up, mon cher Bourdot. And we are on the spot. The telephone was a great idea, rfi! And now I want you to find Durand down below. I must send him to the Prefecture. I will write a note while you are finding him. Observe once more how use- ful was that little affair of the studio in the Rue Tartarin. The Prefect has been our friend ever since. He loved that little joke." Antoine scribbled a hasty note to the Prefect, ex- plaining that for urgent private and patriotic reasons he wished to know anything there was to know concern- ing Herr Haase, an elderly German gentleman who lived. in the Rue de Cherche Midi. He was sealing up the letter when Durand came in. Antoine explained the matter in a few words, and Durand departed. Bourdot returned to his post of observation down below. Antoine sat with an ear turned towards the telephone, but nothing happened. As some relief from inaction he rang up Morissot at the office and asked if there was any later news on the situation. 263 "No change," he reported, "or if there is, it is a shade more pessimistic. It will be war one can see no way out of it. There is one thing to be said for the first time in my experience the Government is more or less behaving as a government should." "That is something to be thankful for," said Antoine with a chuckle. "Mind you, I am not saying they have really done anything yet," put in Morissot hastily. "But one really has some hopes that they will." "I am relieved to find that you are not too enthusi- astic," laughed Antoine. "I should not like to see too violent a change in you." The chat with Morissot put him in a good humor. Shortly afterwards Durand came in on his return from the Prefecture. "The Prefect was all that could be wished," he said. "He knew all about Herr Haase without having to con- sult any documents. His real name is Baron von Kuhling." "The name seems familiar." "Yes. You will remember that some twelve years ago there was a very nasty court scandal in Berlin. It is supposed that to save others more exalted Kuhling was made a sort of scapegoat. He belongs to one of Bavaria's oldest families, but he was banished kicked out of Germany. He has lived chiefly in France ever since, mostly on the Riviera. Less than a year ago he settled down in Paris. He is not really so old as he looks the affair evidently made a heavy mark on him. There is nothing known against him. He lives a quiet, retired life, under his assumed name, and is an ardent collector of prints and engravings dealing with the French Revolution. That is all that is known about him, the Prefect says." THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE "Not a very terrible record," murmured Antoine, "There are degrees, even amongst Germans." V M. ROBESPIERRE'S taxi drew up a hundred yards short of the hotel. A few minutes later Antoine's face ap- peared in the open window. He entered and imme- diately explained what he had heard concerning Herr Haase. "I remember the scandal very well," remarked the old gentleman. "I can only hope for his sake that he was really the victim of his friends and not of his acts." "You will have other distinguished company this evening, besides the Prince," said Antoine. And he explained what Bourdot had heard on the telephone. "The German Ambassador, eh ! It sounds very grave. I wonder what it is they have in hand. And I wonder what they require of Herr Haase. Anyhow there is nothing now but to go and see. I should imagine that he is a man with a grievance. I shall let them do the talking. Anyhow it gives me a feeling of security to know that you can listen to anything they may say on the telephone." They talked for some time longer, examining the affair from all possible points of view. Then Antoine with a last fervent handshake got out and the taxi drove to the hotel door. At the hotel bureau M. Robespierre breathed the name he was supposed to bear. A dapper young man, who looked as though he might be a private secretary, and who had apparently been waiting, came forward. "You are expected upstairs," Now do you begin to see?" "It is wonderful," murmured the other, his eyes set in a fixed stare. "It is colossal." "I may say that the idea was largely my own," pur- sued the Prince, in the best of humors. "As for you, there will be no danger. The French will see in you merely a German suffering from a long-seated grievance, a long-nursed idea of wrong. You will be arrested, that is all. And in a few weeks, when we enter Paris, you will be released and be one of us again. Here in this very hotel the Emperor will reward." The Prince stood transfigured, and breathing heavily, moved by the proud emotions that surged within him. The little old figure that aat before him looked up with 268 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE an intense expression that might have meant anything fierce admiration or fierce loathing. There was silence for a while. Then the Prince opened the drawer of a table and took out a small shining thing. "You see everything is ready to the last detail," he went on, with a smile. "You will fire two shots with this well over the 'head of the Ambassador. I have arranged that you shall be overpowered, not too roughly, by members of his Excellency's suite. I am expecting the Ambassador every moment, and you will be able to have a little rehearsal together." Almost mechanically M. Robespierre reached out his hand and took the pistol. "Handle it carefuly," laughed the Prince, "both now and to-morrow." There was a knock at the door and von Gassner entered. "This is Herr Haase," said the Prince, pausing a little before the name. "Everything is understood and agreed upon." Von Gassner looked sharply at M. Robespierre, who had risen slowly. "I once saw Baron von Kuhling," he said, "but this gentleman does not seem to recall him. I remember him as having a duelling scar on the cheek." "But impossible! It must be! I have told him everything!" cried the Prince. "But you are not Baron von Kuhling, otherwise Herr Haase," exclaimed von Gassner, addressing M. Robe- spierre directly. "It is quite true," replied M. Robespierre calmly. "I am a simple French citizen, and not a disgraced German nobleman. My name is Robespierre." The Prince gave a shout of anger and dismay. THE GREATEST ADVENTURE 269 "Then how do you come here? How is it that you are in my room impersonating another man?" "It is a happy accident which I will not bother to ex- plain. It is sufficient that I know all your dastardly plan against my country. It is truly German." M. Robespierre's tone -was very cold and cutting. The Prince's face went white and distorted with anger, and he slowly raised his clenched fists to his head. "Gently," said von Gassner. "We must see quietly to this." But the Prince's anger exploded. "You hound, you miserable hound!" he cried, and leaping on M. Robespierre bore 'him to the ground. There was a muffled report. "Oh, meln Gott, mein lieber Gott," exclaimed the Prince, and rolled off his victim on to the carpet. Von Gassner rushed forward and bent over his master, with a cry of dismay. yi THE Prefect of Police had for a long time past taken a considerable interest in the Hotel Grand Imperial. So that when he received a letter from Antoine written on the notepaper of that august establishment he was not slow to appreciate the point. "What is our friend doing there?" he mused. "He must be on the track of something." Half an hour later it was reported to him that a cer- tain unassuming visitor who was staying at the hotel was none other than Prince Ernst of Saxe-Wolmar. The Prefect began to put two and two together. He decided to make the hotel the objective of one of the nocturnal strolls which it was his frequent custom to take round Paris. 270 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE Consequently some ten minutes after M. Robespierre had disappeared into the Prince's suite there was knock on the door of Antoine's salon and the Prefect stepped into the room. He found himself in the presence of Antoine and Bourdot, who stared at him in some dismay. "I was just passing," said the Prefect, with a gentle smile, "and it occurred to me that you might want a little information on the matter you consulted me about." "It was excessively kind of you," said Antoine, "but you told me all I wanted to know." "Permettez," said the Prefect, as if he had not heard, and produced a cigarette case. He evidently intended to stay awhile. Antoine endeavored to hide his emotions and engage in polite conversation. The talk inevitably drifted to the question of war. It was interrupted by a tele- phone ring that caused Antoine to sit bolt upright in his chair. Then with as little show as possible of haste he stepped into his bedroom. There was a tense feeling in the air and the Prefect and Bourdot sat quite silent. No sound came from Antoine. A minute later he appeared in the doorway, his face white and startled. It was obvious that he had heard something grave. He looked at the Prefect and appeared to be turning something over in his mind. "There is something you should know at once," he said. "Prince Ernst of Saxe-Wolmar who is staying in this hotel has just been shot." The Prefect bounded out of his chair. "Vous dites!" "I have just heard something on the telephone. I can't explain it all now. There was some hurried con- versation in German which I did not understand. Then THE GREATEST ADVENTURE 271 a moment later a voice I knew said "The Prince has been shot." "Where is he?" cried the Prefect. "In the suite at the end of the corridor there," replied Antoine pointing. The Prefect was out in the corridor in a flash, the others following him. As they stepped through the doorway a distinguished looking man came walking towards them. All three recognized him at once. It was the German Ambassador. With a little start of surprise 'he recognized the Prefect at the same moment. They had been together on many cordial occasions. It was, on both sides, an awkward meeting. "I am just calling on a friend," said the Ambassador with a smile, after a mutual greeting, and made as if to pass on. "One moment, Your Excellency," said the Prefect. "I have just heard there has been an accident to Prince Ernst." The Ambassador's eyebrows went up in surprise and dismay. "An accident to Prince Ernst. I don't understand." "Perhaps it will be as well if we go in together pardon me." And with that the Prefect led the way. The door was locked. It was opened by M. Robes- pierre, wiho stood there with a revolver in his hand. "Come in everybody," he said calmly, and waved them in with a nonchalant sweep of the weapon. The Prince was lying on the carpet in the center of the room, where he had fallen. Von Gassner stood a little distance back, his arms folded, silent and motion- less. It was the little Egyptologist, revolver in hand and quite naturally calm, who dominated the scene. "My God, who has done this? Is he dead?" cried THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE the Ambassador, rushing forward to the prostrate figure. "He is apparently quite and absolutely dead," came the level tones of M. Robespierre. "He did it himself. And when your Excellency has finished examining the deceased I have something important to say to you." The Ambassador stood up with a dazed expression on his face and looked hard at M. Robespierre. "Who are you?" he asked. "That does not matter for the moment. But at least I know who you are, and was expecting your visit. By an accident which need not be explained I was here to- night in the place of Herr Haase otherwise Baron von Kuhling. And I am able to tell you that the inter- esting incident which it was proposed should occur when you make your departure from Paris to-morrow will not now take place." "I do not understand. You say this dreadful tragedy was was self-inflicted." "Not precisely. It was more an accident. The Prince, believing that I was Herr Haase, had handed me this pistol to examine. A few moments later he learned that I was not Herr Haase. In his surprise and anger at the announcement he flung himself on me, threw me to the ground and the pistol which was still in my hand went off. The chief point, as I have already said, is that to-morrow's demonstration will not take place." "I know nothing of any demonstration to-morrow," said the Ambassador harshly. "But as to the terrible thing which has happened to this poor young man, we must hear more of this. It is indeed fortunate, my dear Prefect, that you should be here. I cannot do better than leave this tragic affair and also this mysterious individual who appears to have had so much to do with THE GREATEST ADVENTURE 273 it in your hands. I am sure you will soon arrive at the exact truth. Will you please report anything you may learn to me at the Embassy. It seems to me that this may mean a very difficult incident of the gravest international importance especially in view of the present situation." "Very good, your Excellency," returned the Prefect with studied politeness. "And the unfortunate Prince? What shall we do with him ?" "I will make all arrangements as to that. You, Count," he turned to von Gassner, "had better come with me. You will of course be entirely at the disposal of the French authorities should they desire to ask you anything." The Ambassador cast a last mournful glance at the figure on the carpet, and was gone. As he went through the doorway Inspector Sauvage appeared there. His chief beckoned him, and gave some rapid instructions. Then he approached M. Robespierre. "I am afraid you must consider yourself under arrest until this affair is more satisfactorily explained," he said. "With pleasure," returned the other. "Please take this." And he handed over the revolver. "And I think that, together with my friend Poiret, I can explain everything to you." vn THEY sat in Antoine's salon. M. Robespierre and Antoine had told all they knew. "All that you say is obviously true," said the Prefect. "But it is a dreadful thing when private individuals 274 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE meddle in the gravest international crises. Heavens ! What a situation." "He was a miserable wretch, and deserved to die," said M. Robespierre calmly. "I am by no means sorry that my hand did it." "Possibly," said the Prefect. "But do you not see that the incident they were seeking is provided, and that the situation is aggravated tenfold. What matter what plot they were hatching! We may never be able to convince the world of it. But they will make the death of this princeling bon Dieu, what will they not do with it! It is a desperate business. I dare not think of what may come of it. Bon Dleu! Quelle situation!" The Prefect sprang up and began to pace the floor agitatedly. "You should have reported this affair of the Prince and Herr Haase to me immediately," he burst out. "This should have been no mere question of newspaper enterprise. It is too big it is war everything. The Foreign Office will go mad ! Here we are with the death of this Prince on our hands. How it is to be explained? They may even declare war on this very point." There was silence in the room. Antoine felt that he was being unjustly reproached. But it was hardly the moment to interrupt the Prefect. And indeed the situ- ation was immensely grave. There came the buzz of a telephone bell in the still- ness. It was Antoine's own instrument ringing, and not the other. He picked up the receiver and heard Morissot's voice asking for him urgently. Antoine announced himself. "Well, it is all over," came Morissot's voice. "What do you mean?" "It is war. Their patrols crossed the frontier late THE GREATEST ADVENTURE 275 this afternoon. There is no drawing back. Germany has not yet declared war on France, but she has started it." "Hold a minute," said Antoine. He told the news to the others. It was received in absolute silence. For some moments no one spoke. It was the tensest moment in the life of every man present, even though the events of the evening had told them surely what was coming. Then M. Robespierre's voice was heard: "At any rate that delivers us from this infamous princeling. There is nothing for them to do but to take him back with them." "Thank God for that," said Antoine fervently. There was an immense feeling of relief in the room at this. The war had not yet reached them. But the incubus of the dead Prince had been heavy on their minds, and its removal left them feeling comparatively elated. Even the Prefect relaxed a little. Antoine heard Morissot's voice on the telephone again : "I have been thinking, mon cher Antoine. This is a time when all Frenchmen, of whatever kind, must pull together. To-night I have written an article in praise of the Government." In spite of all that had happened, Antoine could not restrain a laugh. "Nothing short of a European war would have made you do that, mon cher ami," he replied. VIII MONSIEUR PROSPER LEBLAKC came out of the Sante Prison one bright morning in August. The slow, interminable inquiry into his tangled financial affairs 276 FHE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE had left him a changed and 'broken man. Gone was the lustrous, confident demeanor of the prosperous homme d'affaires. He was not yet a convicted man. He and his friends same of them men of influence who were anxious for their own sakes that nothing should hap- pen 'had fought too fiercely for that. The best lawyers had been engaged. Therefore the affaire Leblanc promised to go on forever without ever coming to trial. And with the great change that had come over France in the first few days of the war his friends had succeeded in obtaining permission for his temporary release. It was not difficult to do. Somehow the finances of M. Leblanc had suddenly seemed not to matter. Friends met him at the prison. He seemed listless and dispirited, but as soon as possible escaped them, and drove away. His new-found liberty meant little to him. For a long time past in prison he had brooded over one thing. He had become a man with an idee fixe. His thoughts constantly dwelt on Antoine Poiret, the man who had prospered on the ruins of one of his own enterprises. For some reason he could not have explained, this galled him more than all the rest of his misfortunes. And he had coldly determined to shoot Antoine at the first opportunity. It was the one thought in life which gave him any pleasure. Now, immediately after leaving prison, he stopped his cab at the first gunsmith's shop he saw and bought a revolver and cartridges. Then he drove on to the offices of La Lumiere. He knew that war had already begun. He was conscious that the streets and the boulevards, with their many shuttered shops, had a curious and lifeless look. But these things made little or no impression on his THE GREATEST ADVENTURE 277 brain. He was conscious only of his own affairs, and particularly of the one in hand. He arrived at the office and walked boldly upstairs. It was morning but even so they were strangely quiet. He walked from room to room and found nobody. Descending the stairs again he found Jean, the old door- keeper, coming up. M. Leblanc, unrecognized, ques- tioned him. Practically everybody was away, mobilized, said Jean; M. Poiret amongst them. The paper was coming out with the greatest difficulty. M. Leblanc wandered dully down the boulevard. He was suddenly deprived of 'his grim purpose, and had nothing to put in its place. At the corner of the Place de 1'Opera the heartening sound of trumpets caught his ear. A battalion of infantry came marching bravely by, the men loaded with the trappings of war, their long bayonets glittering in tihe sun. M. Leblanc warmed a little as he looked at them, but he was still a man wrapped in his own unhappy dreams. And then a number on a tunic collar caught his eye. Bon Dieu, but it was the 127th of the Line, his old regi- ment! His dull eyes lighted up as he thought of the life in barracks in the old days. Where were his old companions of the regiment now? He became conscious that the air was throbbing with martial music; that people were cheering, that girls were throwing flowers and kisses ; that here and there women were weeping and that the soldiers were throwing back the salutes and affection of the crowd with happy laughs and waves of the arm. M. Leblanc, weaver of many financial webs, cynical homme d'affaires, felt a dampness in his eyes. By- Heaven! but these bright young men were off to fight the enemy, the 'hated German from beyond the Rhine, the everlasting Prussian! France was at war! 278 THE ADVENTURES OF ANTOINE There came a wave of cheering that caught him up in its rush and started him cheering too. And with the tumult at its height he saw a soldier, his red kepi set jauntily on his head, whose face he knew. It was Antoine Poiret! M. Leblanc stopped cheering and 'his hand went instinctively to his pocket. "Poiret! bon Dieu, and in my old regiment !" he shouted. In the multitude of sounds Antoine caught his own name and turned his head. Their eyes met and said many things. But for Antoine the past was dead and finished with. He was off to war. He waved his hand in farewell. M. Leblanc plucked off his hat and waved it in reply. "Hurrah for the 127th of the Line," he shouted. "Hurrah for the old regiment ! Vive la France !" And Antoine had gone on liis greatest adventure. THE END A 000124952 3