L '-^Ll? BY THE AUTHOR OF I MB POTTER OF TEXAS j Sixth] Routlcdge's Railway Library Advertiser. Issue. ROWLAND'S Toilet Articles are free from metallic poisons or Injurious compounds. MACASSAR f% I Strengthens the Hair. 1 Sold also in a GOLDEN V 1 LcOLOFB. ODONTO A non-gritty Tooth Powder. Whitens the teeth and prevents decay. KALYDOR EUKONIA Beautifies the Skin, and removes Freckles, Tan, Sunburn, Chaps, &o. A fragrant Toilet Powder in three tints White, Hose, Cream. Ask for Rowland's Articles, of 20, Hatton Garden, .London. Sold by Chemists and Perfumers. K EATING'S POWDER sasa BUGS' 1 FLEAS M OTH J BEETLES SoldinTins6*l/-&3/6 HEATING'S WORMJTABLETS JJEARLY all Children suffer from WORMS ; if suspected, do not wait, you can with ease cure the child ; this remedy is SURE TO CURE. SAFE TO USE. (Has no effect except on Worms). Tins, IS. l^d. at all Chemists. KEATINGS LOZENGES THE BEST COUGH EEMEDY EVER MADE, Sold by all Chemists in Tins, Is. Isd. each. Sixth] Routledge's Railway Library Advertiser. [Issue. THE CONSTANT SYLLABLE TICKING FROM THE CLOCK OF TIME. NOW IS THE WATCHWORD OF THE WISE. NOW IS ON THE BANNER OF THE PRUDENT NOW YOU CAN CHANGE THE TRICKLING STREAM, BUT TO-MORROW YOU MAY HAVE THE RACING TOR- RENT TO CONTEND WITH, TN THE BATTLE OF THIS A LIFE END'S "FRUIT SALT " is an imperative hygienic need, or necessary adjunct. It keeps the blood pure, prevents fevers and acute inflammatory diseases, ifmovfs the injurious effects of stimulants, narcotics, such as alco- hol, tobacco, tea, coffee, by natural means; thus restores the nervous system to its normal condition, by preventing the great danger of poisoned blood and over-cerebral activity, sleeplessness, irritability, worry, etc. OUT A BOTTLE OF ENO'S "FRUIT SALT." "From a Town in British Guiana, South America. J. C. Eno, Esq.. London. Sir, After two yeais' trial of your excellent 'FRUIT SALT, 1 I can safely say that it has saved me much misery from Colonial Fevers, indigestion, and impaired appetite, to which I have been sub- ject during eleven years' residence in the tropics. It is invaluable to travellers as a preventive of sea-sickness, and a relief from the other ailments of life aboard s-hip ; and for myself I would as soon think of going a voyage without my tooth-brush as my bottle of ENO'S 'FRUIT SALT.' With ordinary care it does not get hard and caked as other effervescent preparations do in warm and humid climates, and this is greatly in its favour. I am, Sir, yours respectfully. W.J. B." EUROPE, ASI^, AFRICA. AMEBICA, AUSTRALIA. IMPORT- *-* ANT TO ALL TRAVELLERS. " Please send me half-a-dozen bottles of ENO'S 'FRUIT SALT.' I have tried ENO'S 'FRUIT SALT' in America. I" li i, l-'.'iypt, and on the Continent for almost every complaint, fever included, with the most satisfactory resul s. I can strongly recr.mmend it to all Travellers; in fact, I am never without it. -Yours faithful y, AN ANGLO-INDIAN OFFICIAL, June 26, 1878." " I irfed my ' FRUIT SALT ' freely in my last severe attack of fever, and I have every reason to say it saved my lifo. " J. C. ENO." OAUTIOK" Examine each Bottle, and seethe Capsule is marked " ENO'S ' FRUIT ' SALT.' " Without it t/ou hacc been imposed on b;i o worthless im.'tafion. >'Vd by all Prepared only at EnoV Fruit Salt' Works, London, S.E., by J. C. Eno's Patent. Routledge's Railway Library Advertiser. \ilsstte.' COOPER COOPER & GO, ARE NOW SELLING TEA OF ROBUST STRENGTH, CEYLOff, INDIAN, and CHINA GROWTH, At Is, 4d., Is, 6d,, Is. 8d,, and 2s, a Pound, And there is NO SUCH VALUE sold in the United Kingdom at these Prices. Finer Teas of Choicest and Most Select Qualities, 3s,, 2s, 6d,, and 2s, a Pound, AT A OMISSION ONLY ON THE PRIG! PAID IN EASTERN MARKETS. THREEPENCE only is the charge made by COOPER COOPER & CO. for sending Packages of TEA from Four to Ten Pounds in weight, by Parcel Post, to any part of the United Kingdom. SAMPLES POST FREE OH APPLICATION. CHIEF OFFICE : 50, KING WILLIAM STREET, LONDON BRIDGE, E.C. BRANCH ESTABLISHMENTS : 63, Bishopsgate Street Within, E.C 238, Regent Circus, W. 35, Strand, W-C LONDON, i 21, Westbourne Grove, W- 334, High Holborn, W.C. 98, Shoreditch High Street, E. 238, Westminster Bridge Boad, S.E. 20 and 21, East Street. BRIGHTON, THAT FRENCHMAN! THAT FRENCHMAN ARCHIBALD CLAVERING GUNTER AUTHOR OF "MR. BARNES OF NF.W YORK," " MR. POTTER OF TEXAS," ETC. COPYRIGHT LONDON GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL GLASGOW, MANCHESTER, AND NEW YORK 1889 (All rights reserved) LONDON: BUADBURY, AONBW. & CO., PRINTERS, WHITKFBIAM. MR. A. C. GUNTER'S NOVELS MR. BARNES OF NEW YORK. MR. POTTER OF TEXAS. THAT FRENCHMAN! 2062149 CONTENTS. BOOK I. THE FLOWER GIRL OF THE JARDIN D'ACCLIMATATION. PAGE CHAPTER I. An Amateur Detective, - - 5 .II. The Heart of the Conspiracy, - 16 III. Young Microbe of the Rue de Jerusalem, - - - 22 IV. Number 55 Rue de Maubeuge, 32 V. Hide and Seek, - 45 VI. The Fate of the Mabille Suit, - 55 VII. The Broken Thread, - - 71 BOOK II. THE MASKED WRESTLER OF PARIS. CHAPTER VIII." L'Homme Masque Will Meet All Comers," - - - - 84 " IX. The Bear's Nest in the Bois de Boulogne, - - 100 X.-Lamla, 1I 4 CONTENTS. PAGB CHAPTER XL The Salle les Arenas on the Rue le Peletier, - - - 127 " XII. The Base-ball Finger, - -142 XIII. To-Morrow ! - - - 154 " XIV. A Russian Governess, - - - 171 BOOK III. THE WEB OF THE RUSSIAN SECRET POLICE. CHAPTER XV. Don't You Remember Me ?- - 181 XVI. The Ball on the Frontanka, - 196 " XVII. If I Find a Way from Russia ? - 208 " XVIII. Olga's Datcha, - - - 223 XIX. The Six Napkins, - - 238 " XX. That Frenchman ! - 255 XXI. The Last Round ! - - - 278 THAT FRENCHMAN! BOOK I. THE FLOWER GIRL OF THE JARDIN D'ACCLIMATATION. CHAPTER I. AN AMATEUR DETECTIVE. " O-O-O-AUGH ! " The first of this is a sighing moan ; the second a sudden vocal twist and snap of the jaws ; the whole a prolonged yawn. " Monsieur ! " remarks the valet deferentially. " What time is it ? " " Seven o'clock ! " "Seven o'clock! Why the devil are you disturbing me at seven o'clock in the morning? Sapristi ! Don't you know I only returned from Madame d'Indra's ball at three, Francois?" mutters Maurice, Le Chevalier de Verney in a half-asleep tone, rolling over on his luxurious pillows for another nap. " Monsieur, the head of secret police wishes to see you immediately. He will not be denied ! " " Le Diable ! Show Monsieur Claude in at once ! " cries Maurice springing over the bed with an athletic bound. " My dressing-gown and now let me see the autocrat of the Rue de Jerusalem ! " Francois salutes with military grace and passes to the 6 THAT FRENCHMAN ! door of the handsome bed-room. Here he pauses and says in a tone of affectionate anxiety : " Monsieur de Verney my my master you you have not com- promised yourself politically ? You have not displeased the Emperor?" "Not I ! " laughs the young man. " My eagerness is that of joy I I love the secret police, and the head of it most of all." The servant has turned to go when there is a bound behind him, he feels his arm gripped as by a vise of steel, he is swung round as if by the power of a whizzing fly- wheel, and is gazing amazed into his master's face. " Frangois remember ! military secrecy not a word 6f this visit to any one on earth ! " "Y-e-es! Monsieur Commandant! But my my arm ! " and the man, though a veteran of the French army in the Crimea and Algeria, almost groans with pain. "Your pardon!" says his master apologetically; "I had no idea I had used any great strength." " Any great strength ! " gasps Frangois ; " my arm has been in a vise." Here he rubs the affected member. " Mon Dieu ! Monsieur is like Hercules in the paintings at the Louvre ! " This is rank flattery, for Maurice de Verney is not over five feet ten, and his physique, at first glance, does not appear marvelous under his silken dressing-gown. He says, a little impatiently, " Quick ! the head of the police must not be kept waiting ! " And as the servant leaves the room the master with a little laugh lights a cigar, and popping his feet into slippers sinks into an arm-chair before the freshly lighted fire to await the coming of the man, perhaps the most feared in the Paris of 1868, Monsieur Claude, the nom- inal head of the "Bureau de SArete" under the Second Empire. A moment after, this gentleman cautiously shoves his head through the half -opened portieres that separate the large luxurious bedroom from the larger and more luxuri- ous parlor. His glance, professionally inquisitive, takes in the room and its occupant, first generally, then in detail. Monsieur Claude's primal impression is that the cham- ber he is looking into is that of an effeminate dandy. The room is furnished with that delicate, graceful luxury THAT FRENCHMAN ! 7 peculiar to the Second Empire of France, which has, in the last twenty years, impressed itself upon the whole modern fashionable world, and can now be seen not only in dukes' palaces in England, the mansions of New York million- aires, the villas of cattle-trust butchers in Chicago, the railroad syndicates' and bonanza kings' adornments of Nob Hill, San Francisco, but even in the houses of Australian magnates of many sheep-ranges, and the bungalows of rich opium-smuggling European, Chinese, and Indian merchant princes in fact, wherever there is money enough to pay for silken hangings, bric-a-brac, marquetry, tapestry, and furniture in appearance light and graceful enough to bend to the forms of fairies, but strong enough to bear the weight of average men and women even fat ones. The room is a mass of satin pale blue hangings on the walls ; pale amber draperies and upholsteries on the bed and furniture, save where it is given variety of form by the white ivory and gold of carved wood-work and gilded metal, or broken here and there by patches of color in the form of delicate pictures from the hands of masters of the modern French school of painting which is as much ahead of that of the old Flemish as modern science is beyond old alchemy, if we had but the cour- age to think so, and dared judge by our eyes and not by our reverence for ancient humbug. At first glance this is the appearance of the room, but a longer gaze adds a peculiar effect to the chamber : its satin hangings are held up by Arab spears ; its curtains fall from Algerine match-locks not the imitation ones of a Parisian upholsterer, but real ones, that have been used in war and bear the scars of combat upon their dark old barrels and uncouth stocks. From the horns of the antelope, deer and stag, hang rapiers, swords and pistols ; while near the bed, and convenient to the hand of its owner, is placed the saber of a cavalry officer and a heavy, six-shooting, dragoon revolver, from Mr. Colt of, America. Both of these seem ready for instant use in emergency. Sandwich among the most exquisitely beau- tiful pictures a dozen atrocious wood-cuts from English Boxiana, showing the heroes of the British prize-ring in fighting attitudes ; add to this a magnificent lion's head with its tawny skin attached, which is thrown before the 8 THAT FRENCHMAN ! grate ; toss carelessly about the room a couple of pairs oi English boxing-gloves, several Indian clubs of assorted sizes, dumb-bells ranging in weight from three to one hundred and fifty pounds ; sling from the ceiling a punch-bag such as prize-fighters train with ; in the midst of this conglomeration inject a few French nov- els of Monsieur Paul de Cock, Balzac, and Eugene Sue, together with works of Taine, Voltaire, and Guizot, seasoned with " Le Prince," of wicked, philosophical Machiavelli ; elevate this by Macaulay's " History of England," together with two or three scientific works, and " A Treatise on the Calculus," by La Place ; and in the middle, as a center-piece, place a gay young man with an Anglo-Saxon forehead, the face of a philosopher, the eyes of a lover, and the jaw of a warrior, robed in a light, pale, harmonious-blue dressing-gown, upon his feet slip- pers of amber-colored satin, who is lazily smoking a cigar and gazing fondly upon a rose-bud he has picked from a table covered with flowers, and you have the picture that petrified Monsieur Claude, the head of the French police. After a minute of surprised contemplation and savage chewing of his grizzled mustache, Monsieur Claude mutters to himself : " The Jack o' dandy ! is he a mountebank or a Napoleon the First ? " Then he steps into the apartment and says effusively, " My dear de Verney, my unexpected visit " "Was expected!" remarks Maurice calmly. " Take a cigar ! " At this, the supposed wise man of Paris gives a gulp of astonishment, murmurs faintly, " You know, then ? " and sinks, overcome with wonder, into a chair. " What the devil did he come for ? " meditates de Ver- ney, looking at the collapsed head of secret police. " All the same, when you wish to impress a man who is supposed to know everything, it is best to appear to know a little more than he does. Perhaps he'll tell me all now with- out pumping." Then he says aloud, " Take a cigar, my dear Monsieur Claude, and come to business ! " No no cigars," returns the visitor dejectedly. "Ah ! then, perhaps you'll have something to drink ? " and Maurice, ringing, says to his servant, " Francois, a glass of Bordeaux for Monsieur Claude ! " The valet having gone, he turns to his guest and remarks causti- THAT FRENCHMAN ! 9 cally, " You need some stimulant. You have bee.n out all night ! " " How did you learn that ? " returns Monsieur Claude, suspiciously pulling his whiskers, that are slightly griz- zled ; for the chief of police is nearly fifty, while the gentleman he has called on is, by his appearance, in the very acme of youth /. e., about twenty-seven. At which age, man, properly trained, properly nourished, and unex- hausted by dissipation and debauchery, is, if not at his highest state of mental development, at least at his cli- max of physical vigor and muscular activity. " I should have guessed it if I had not seen you before. You have an all-night appearance, Monsieur Claude ; your hair needs brushing your coat also," remarks de Verney with a smile ; " but behold the wine ! Francois, put the bottle and glasses on the table and see that I am not disturbed ! " And, his servitor withdrawing, his masjter cautiously closes and locks the door after him, then returns, and, sinking lazily into a chair, drawls out, " Besides, I saw you at work ! " At this, the head of the secret police springs up in aston- ishment, almost staggers to the table, hastily gulps down two glasses of claret, forgetting in his agitation to note that it is Lafitte, of the grand vintage of '53, and then gasps : " You saw me when where ? " " At a quarter to three this morning at the Rue de Maubeuge, just where it leaves the Rue de Faubourg Montmartre." " Le Diable ! " " Yes you and your satellites at work, Monsieur Claude upon the person of of Monsieur Her Her- mann " " Margo ! " cries the chief of police. " Which, by the by, isn't his right name," remarks de Verney, sharply closing his speech, and at last being sure he has guessed the matter about which the chief of police has come. " How the deuce did you see all this?" ejaculates the chief of the Bureau de Surete. " Are yours the only eyes in Paris ? " laughs Maurice. " YotT Solomons of the Rue de Jerusalem think you are the only beings in France blessed with the sense of sight. You may be watched as sharply as vou inspect 10 THAT FRENCHMAN ! the doings of other people. However, to-night I saw you by accident ! " "By accident ! How ? " "Before we go further in this most important matter, Monsieur Claude," says de Verney coolly, " we must come to an understanding on one important point." " What point ? I don't understand ! " " Then I'll make it clear to you," returns Maurice calmly but impressively. "To do so, permit me to recall to your mind certain facts concerning you and me. I am Maurice, Le Chevalier de Verney, of noble family and plenty of money, but wanting fame ! Seven years ago, at twenty, I was lieutenant of chasseurs, stationed in Algeria, and had nothing to do but shoot lions to gain fame. I gained all the fame possible by killing the king of beasts." Here he fondles carelessly the lion's head by which he is sit- ting. " Then I volunteered for service in Mexico, and fought my way to a medal and a captaincy. Well, you know the end in Mexico. I came home, unharmed, with a little more fame and one year's leave. A year of in- activity meant a year out of my life. I determined to study the social and political complications of Paris knowledge is always useful. In my investigations I stumbled on something that astonished me. I un- raveled the something which astonished me, and found it was a plot that was being slowly perfected to assassinate the Emperor. I saved His Majesty's life. You remem- ber that day's ride in the Bois de Boulogne, when I warned Louis Napoleon not to let the man riding behind him overtake him or he was a dead man. You remem- ber the plot that had been perfected under your very eyes, and you had not seen it, Monsieur le Prefet de Sfireti. You remember the ' affaire Koelch ' / Sapristi ! you ought to remember it. It nearly cost you your official head ! " " Diable ! Don't speak of it!" mutters Monsieur Claude with a shiver, though the room is very warm. " That service made the Emperor my friend, gave me the cross of the Legion of Honor, promotion to the grade of commandant, and the position of extra aide-de- camp to the general commanding the troops in Paris. A little more glory ! Then you were instructed, Monsieur Claude, to place any affair of vital importance that you could not understand in my hands for investigation. THAT FRENCHMAN! u Since that time it is almost two years now you have had several affairs of vital importance that you did not understand : vide the attempt, eight months ago, to assassinate the Czar of Russia when he came here to the Exposition and you never came near me. You are jealous of me, Monsieur Policeman, and now " here he laughs in Claude's face " you are at your wits' end. Your official head is already dangling over the fatal basket. You know that something must be done very soon, and you come here to me to wake me up at seven o'clock in the morning to beg me to save you. Is it not so, Monsieur Claude ? " The young man looks smilingly at the head of police, who almost groans to him " Y-e-s ! " " Well, I'll save you, but you must sign this paper. It is already written." And, in dazed wonder, the policeman sees the aristocrat unlock an ornamental desk, and pro- duce the following : "PARIS, April 2ist, 1868. " I hereby place the Affaire '. wholly in the hands of Maurice, Le Chevalier de Verney, Commandant loth Chasseurs d'Afrique, for both investigation and action." As he reads, the eyes of the chief of secret police look sharply at Maurice. He grins, and remarks : " Smart as you are, you don't know to what this affair relates ! " " Don't I ? But I know too much to tell you any more till you sign that document. Place your name on that paper, and I'll fill in the blank. If you don't good- morning ! " Monsieur de Verney walks to the door to bid his visitor good-by. Before he gets there, the head of police signs the paper, and says, " Now fill it up, and I'll see how much you know, my amateur policeman." "Certainly ! " and Maurice writes hurriedly ten words that make the eyes of Monsieur Claude roll in his head, for the document now reads : " PARIS, April 2ist, 1868. " I hereby place the Affaire Hermann concerning the assassina- tion or kidnapping of the Prince Imperial wholly in the hands of Maurice, Lc Chevalier de Verney, Commandant 10th Chasseurs d'Afrique, for both investigation and action. " CLAUDE, "Chef Department de Surete." 12 THAT FRENCHMAN ! " Now," remarks Maurice, pocketing the paper, " I want the grade of colonel and the Grand Cross for this affair ; fortunately for the pocket of France I am not mercenary." With that he places the paper in security, nonchalantly lights a cigar, and murmurs, " Time is precious. Your story ? " " At once ! " is the reply, and Monsieur Claude, who, though he has been forced by despair to place this matter in the hands of this man of whom he is desperately jeal- ous, and has been dazed by astonishment even at the slight revelations this interview has already brought him, now pulls himself together, becomes all over policeman again, and tells his news shortly and concisely, some- times consulting a note-book to be sure of his data. " Three days ago, that is, last Saturday, April i8th, I received information from the Prussian foreign office that there was some plot against the safety of the Prince Imperial that would shortly develop itself in Paris. Imagine my excitement at this meager news ! I tele- graphed for more. All they could tell me in reply was that a man, of supposed socialistic tendencies, had left Berlin for Paris on last Thursday, the i6th. He was known in Berlin as Hermann Schultz, was a native of Alsace, by occupation a pharmaceutical chemist, about 30 years of age, light complexion, medium height had been heard to threaten violence to the Emperor of the French his father had been killed at a barricade in Paris in '48. The reason the Prussian police suspected him of being connected with a plot against the Prince Imperial was a scrap of paper carelessly left in his room and found after his departure." "You telegraphed for the paper?" asks Maurice earnestly. " At once ! and the reply was that the policeman had thoughtlessly destroyed it. Oh ! those Germans ! those imbecile Germans ! that fool Bismarck ! " cries Monsieur Claude with true Gallic contempt. " Probably Monsieur Bismarck (if he knows anything , about this matter) has some reason for keeping the scrap of paper to himself there may be more things on it than he wishes us to see. These Prussians are not such fools as we Frenchmen think them. Perhaps some day you may find that out but continue, Monsieur Claude you, THAT FRENCHMAN ! 13 of course, began a search for this, man Hermann ? " remarks de Verney. " Of course I did I am not a fool if Bismarck is," returns Claude snappishly. " But the information had come on the iSth, and the man arrived on the i;th. He had been in Paris one day. It took my emissaries four hours to find him the description being indefinite and the subject of investigation having another name. He is now Hermann Margo." " Yes, I mentioned that when you came in," interjects Maurice. " Well, this Hermann Margo, or Schultz, whatever his name is, was found and watched ! " " What did he do ? " " Of course, we don't know what he did for the one day and four hours before we found him since then he has done nothing ! " " Nothing ? " " NOTHING ! That's what makes me so suspicious about him." " Nothing ! A man in Paris for four days and do nothing ? " Maurice's eyebrows rise in a smile. " That is, nothing to speak of. He has eaten, slept and walked about." " Spoken to no one ? " " No one except to order his meals, bargain for his rooms, and curse the boy who blacked his boots." " Nothing else ? " " Oh ! ah ! yes ; he has each day bought a flower for his button-hole." " What kind of a flower ? " " The officers apparently did not note that," mutters Monsieur Claude, looking over his memoranda. " From whom did he purchase them ? " " Officers did not ascertain that probably unimpor- tant." " Ah ! " This is an unmistakable sneer. At which Monsieur Claude reddens and mutters hurriedly, " But he wrote in his room a large part of each day." "What?" " A treatise on chemistry." " Mon Dicn .' " exclaims Maurice in astonishment ; then 14 THAT FRENCHMAN ! asks after a moment, " Have you any of the treatise with you ? " " No, but a copy of it has been taken, of which, of course, he knows nothing ; but I have had the manu- script examined by a chemist, and he says it appears to be orthodox that is, to be scientifically correct and have the usual meaning. This Hermann has also fitted up a little laboratory and made experiments." " Well I shall want that treatise," remarks Maurice. " You discovered all this I presume when you searched his room ? " " Certainly ! As soon as he left it in the morning, we entered it, and there was not a piece of furniture in it vmexamined." " Still, you may have missed something ! " " Impossible ! We even opened and searched the pil- lows and the mattress " " Bed-posts, rugs ; tore up the flooring and looked into the lining of the clothes he left in his apartment ; the usual routine search " interrupts Maurice " and found nothing." "Nothing! But, if it had been in the old days, I'd have had him ! Oh, for the good old days when you could arrest a man for nothing ! " mutters the chief of police with a sigh. " Ah, yes ! but now you dare not act without some evidence. Monsieur Rochefort and his reds are making such a row about illegal arrests." " Yes, orders from the Tuileries are, ' No seizures with- out proofs.' Oh ! for the dear old days of '53, and I'd have had Monsieur Schultz on his way to Cayenne before this," mutters the head of police, sadly shaking his head. Then he continues rapidly : " Not being able to dis- cover anything compromising in his apartments, I concluded they must be on his person. We knew he had a pocket-book and papers that he always carried with him I dared not arrest and search him I concluded that he should be seized, robbed, and searched by foot- pads. He was returning home this morning from Le Mabille at half past two " And at the corner of the Rue de Maubeuge and the Rue de Faubourg Montmartre I came upon you and three of your officers engaged in your work. Parbleu ! You THAT FRENCHMAN ! 15 were handling him as if you intended murder not robbery," and Maurice gives a slight laugh. " Yes, we wished him to be sure it was a criminal attempt," murmurs Claude with a smile. " But did your work very badly. Your poor victim cried, ' Robbers ! Aid ! Police ! ' and not a single sergeant de ville came to his aid ; then he shrieked, as if to wake the dead, ' Police ! Murder ! Assassins ! ' and the police still slumbered ; but at last, despair giving him wit, he howled, ' Vive La Republique ! A bas les Tyrans!' and in a second, as if by magic, the street was full of gen- darmes as far as le Rue de La Fayette. Egad ! how you and your detectives ran away from the other policemen ! " "Yes, we had to. We have orders by no means to excite the people. Curse that Rochefort ! " cries Mon- sieur Claude. " It is we who do the skulking now the criminals strut about like fighting-cocks." " By running away you managed the affair badly. You should have immediately arrested Monsieur Schultz for seditious cries, hurried him to a police station, searched him and found the pocket-book and papers," remarks Maurice. " Yes, that might be done. We'll attack him again to- night, and, whether Monsieur Schultz tries the same game or not, we'll search him and find his pocket-book and papers." " Excuse me, that is now impossible. He no longer carries them on his person," murmurs Maurice. " Ah ! He has been warned ! He has destroyed them ! " cries the chief of police. " Not at all ; for they are now in my possession ! " " Impossible ! I'll not believe that ! " "Then believe these ! " says Maurice sharply, unlock- ing an escretoire and extending to Monsieur Claude an old, worn, red-leather pocket-book. " Does this answer the description of your officers ? Perhaps you may have seen it at a distance yourself ? " " Y-e-s it is the German's porte-monnaie" gasps Monsieur Claude. " But how in the name of Tophet did you get it?" " Oh, a mere bagatelle ! Perceiving the game you gentlemen were playing, and guessing what you wanted, I assisted Monsieur Schultz in his explanations to the l6 THAT FRENCHMAN ! police, obtained his release, walked home with him, became friends with him, and PICKED HIS POCKETS ! " At this the old head of police bursts into a peal of exultant laughter, and, forgetful of his fifty years, dances ^pas-seul of delight around the furniture of the room. CHAPTER II. THE HEART OF THE CONSPIRACY. THE dance is a short one. Monsieur Claude has not made five ungainly steps before Maurice says suddenly : " Examine this pocket-book and it'll stop your capers. It is empty as the cupboard of a grisette after a student's supper." " Empty ? " "Yes ; it contains nothing ! " " Nothing ? Impossible ! You are concealing some- thing from me. You have removed its contents." " Not at all. Monsieur Hermann, evidently suspecting something of your plans, removed what was in this pocket-book before I stole it. It was empty as it is now when I got it. Behold ! " and de Verney tosses the old red porte-monnaie to Claude. " Then examine its lining there may be something concealed in that." " Already done ! There was not even a sou in it. No money nothing ! " " Ah ! that indicates he was suspicious ! " " Certainly ; and it also indicates he made the transfer from this pocket-book in a hurry and probably in the dark. He had not the time to separate what he wished to hide from the other things contained in it, so he made the transfer bodily, most likely just before your officers assaulted him, Monsieur Claude ! " *'Then how under heaven did you guess he was engaged in a plot against the Prince Imperial ? " " Do you see these letters ? " remarks Maurice impressively, producing a little packet of documents tied with a red string and handing them to the chief of police. " Read them ! " THAT FRENCHMAN ! 17 " They are in a woman's handwriting, and in the German language and text," remarks Claude, after* running through the epistles, " and apparently from a sister to a brother. But I see nothing peculiar in them." " No ; not very peculiar to you, but wonderfully sus- picious to me. I spent an hour over them before I went to bed," replies Maurice, taking the letters again into his possession. "They are three in number, addressed to Berlin, and dated Paris, April nth, i3th, i5th. Allow- ing one day for their passage to Berlin, they were received by Hermann Schultz April i2th, i4th, and i6th. Now scan closely these letters ; they are all written in German text ; but examine more carefully and you see that the writer occasionally, in apparent carelessness, for- getfulness, or ignorance, writes one Latin letter instead of a German letter ; vide the word //L^j-~L^^-tft/i/pQ , S which should be /f ( far~l^^^A^ffi~. The a is, you see, a Latin 0, not a Teutonic one. Now, take these Latin letters " " And they make words sentences sense ! " cries Monsieur Claude in triumphant interruption. " Not by any means," returns de Verney. " We are not dealing with children, but conspirators who are Ger- man philosophers the cipher is much more intricate and ingenious. Each word that contains a Latin letter is intended to be used." " Yes, but they do not make sense," remarks Claude. " I see only these words with Latin letters in the first epistle : ' MONDAYS FINE BETWEEN THE D'ACCLI- MATATION OUR HOLE GARDENERS.' Bosh ! YOU don't call that sense, do you ?" "By no means. But put these with the words in the other two letters similarly denoted, and place them in the order of their dates, nth, i3th, and i5th, and we get this," remarks de Verney, handing Monsieur Claude a piece of paper that reads as follows : 1 8 THAT FRENCHMAN ! , " MONDAYS AND IN FINE OUR PLAYS BE- TWEEN AND IN THE ACTS JARDIN D'ACCLIMA- TATION HIDE SEEK " OUR HIDES A HOLE BY PARK GARDENERS A RECEPTACLE KNOW BY RED ROSES ONE ANSWER " ON OF WORK GAS YOU PROPOSED IT SAFEST ALL THE IS I SHALL FAIL " ADDITIONAL TO FOLLOW EACH RED ROSE BUD COME IMMEDIATELY." "That's gibberish also, remarks Monsieur Claude, 'throwing down the paper." " Not all of it," returns Maurice. " The last two lines of the last letter make sense. ' ADDITIONAL TO FOLLOW EACH RED ROSE-BUD. COME IMMEDIATELY.' " "That letter got there on the i6th, and Hermann left Berlin that same day." "Oh!" remarks Claude, contemplatively. "But the balance ? " "The balance is the most difficult of all ciphers to read, because it is almost impossible to get the whole of it together. There are other letters sent to other people necessary to complete the sense. Even if the police seized all the epistles addressed to or in the possession of any one conspirator, and guessed the clew, they would . not be able to make out its meaning." " Ah ! then there are other letters ? " " Doubtless ! And, until we obtain them, it is an impos- sibility for us to interpret this," says de Verney good- naturedly, " because we have not all of it in our posses- sion. My examinations suggest to me that probably there were two other letters written to Berlin on the 1 2th and i4th of April ; to another man. The two conspira- tors compared these letters, found they were ordered to come here, and left for Paris on the i6th, as the German police notified you. That would make every alternate word missing, save where the first and fifth words join. Of course, most of the communication I have been unable to decipher, but I have also been able to make a shrewd guess at the reading of the first sen- THAT FRENCHMAN ! 19 tence. Here it is. You will find the words I know in capitals, the alternate words, I guess at, in small letters, and when I am unable to guess, a blank," and he hands the chief of police another paper, which reads : " MONDAYS Wednesdays AND Saturdays IN FINE ( victim } weather OUR -< object V PLAYS BETWEEN two AND four ( prince ) IN THE afternoon AT the JARDIN D'ACCLIMATATION at HIDE and SEEK." "That is very wild guessing," remarks'Claude senten- tiously, putting the paper down with a sneering "Pish!" " So wild that I would never have ventured it, had not my perceptions been quickened by a little incident that happened to me yesterday," returns Maurice calmly. " As extra aide-de-camp to the general commanding the troops in Paris, I was compelled to deliver in person a messsage to the Emperor. His majesty received me without ceremony, en famille. I had just finished my business when the door opened and the Prince Imperial ran in with a beautiful bunch of roses in his hand, saying proudly. ' Look ! She gave them to me ! ' ' She,' echoed the Emperor ; ' who is she ? ' ' Oh ! the beautiful flower-girl the one I see so often ! ' replied the Prince. ' Louis is becoming quite a man. He is thirteen, and has already a petite amourette. Parbleu ! he is like his father,' laughed the Emperor. I approached the young prince and begged to see his bouquet. ' Certainly, Monsieur de Verney,' said the little gentleman. ' It was a com- pliment to me, she is so beautiful ; her eyes are like chocolate stars ; she is called the beautiful flower-girl of the Jardin d'Acclimatation.' 'Every one likes my boy,' murmured the Emperor. 'Even the Faubourg Saint Germain,' said I, and bowed myself out." " And what has this anecdote of inner court life to do with your guessing this cipher ? " growls Monsieur Claude, who imagines it is only told him to hurt his feelings and exalt his opinion of Maurice ; Monsieur Claude not being received en famille by the Emperor. " Only this," says de Verney coolly. " Attached to the bouquet given the Prince Imperial by the flower-girl of the Jardin d'Acclimatation, was a slip of paper. Upon this paper was written ' Mcs hommages* It was in 20 THAT FRENCHMAN ! German text, and in the same feminine handwriting that appears in the three cipher letters." "LeDiMf" " Besides," says Maurice, with a grin, " the Prince told me the girl was very talented, and had invented for them a new game hide and seek." " The Empress must be warned at once," mutters Mon- sieur Claude, after a disappointed sniff of astonishment. " On the contrary, I shall say nothing to Her Majesty. The thought that her son is in danger would only distress her. The mother in her would overcome the sovereign. She would take such extraordinary precautions that these conspirators would become alarmed and disappear, only to turn up at some unexpected moment to carry out their design. The only sure safety for the Prince is the dis- covery and punishment of all who are concerned in this plot against him," replies de Verney. " Oh ! You will say nothing to the Empress ! But / shall notify her this morning. If anything happens to that boy it will be my official ruin. I'm too old and wary a bird to be caught with any such logical chaff, my young philosophical dreamer," says Claude with asperity. " Pardon me, you will say not a word to Her Maj- esty." " Pardon me, I am now going to notify her imme - diately," mutters the old man, getting to the door. "Stay where you are ! Don't dare to leave the room ! " " This is extraordinary language to the head of police." " You are no more head of police ! " " WHAT ! " This is a yell of astonishment from the Prefect de Surete. " You are my subordinate." "YOUR SUBORDINATE?" " Yes. When you signed that document appointing me to the sole charge of the ' Affaire Hermann,' at that moment you became subject to my orders." I do not understand." This last is said slowly, in a dazed manner, by the old man. " This is the reason you are ! " remarks Maurice, pro- ducing a paper with the imperial seal. " Foreseeing that some such complication as this might happen, two years THAT FRENCHMAN ! 21 ago, I obtained from the Emperor this : Read it ! " and, placing the document under Claude's eyes, that gentle- man sees : :< In case any criminal investigation is placed in the hands of Maurice, Le Chevalier de Verney for action, he shall have full and complete control of the Bureau de Surete for that investigation. Given at the Tuileries Paris, November 22d, 1866. " Louis NAPOLEON, Seal of France. EMPEROR." " You see, in the ' Affaire Hermann/ you are my subor- dinate, Mr. Claude," laughs the young man. Then he says sternly, " Not a word of danger to the Prince Imperial to any one, man or woman ! You will go from here and send to me four of your most expert assistants, one old and experienced, two middle aged, one young, active and very cunning. Let them be here by ten A.M. It is eight now that will give me an hour for sleep ; another for my toilet and breakfast. Send by them all papers whatsoever bearing on this matter, marked ' Affaire Her- mann.' You will also send me a detail of ten of your most trusted officers for special instructions. I shall not warn the Empress, but " "You will guard the Prince Imperial?" interjects Monsieur Claude. " As I would my soul ! " " You young fashionable gentlemen do not take very good care of your souls," sneers the old head of police. "Then I'll guard the Prince Imperial as I would my honor ! No one ever dared to insinuate I could not pro- tect that !" returns de Verney hotly. A moment after he continues quite coldly : " In case there is anything I wish to consult you about, I shall send for you." Here Mau- rice rings the bell, and, Francois answering it, he bows and says, " Good morning." The old head of police walks back to him and whispers in his ear : " Pardon me, but what do you intend to do at ten o'clock ? " "First," replies Le Chevalier, "search Monsieur Her- 22 THAT FRENCHMAN ! mann's room, to see what there really is in it ; second, to go straight to the heart of this conspiracy." 11 The heart of this conspiracy ? What is that ? " " THE HEART OF THE WOMAN WHO WROTE THOSE LETTERS ! I can't get the whole of that cipher, but I will get the whole of the heart of the woman who wrote it ! I am young, perhaps good-looking." Here Maurice catches his reflection in the mirror and smiles. " I have plenty of gold and plenty of brass My dear Claude, wish me luck. I'm going to make love to the lovely flower-girl of the Jardin d'Acclimatation AND CATCH HER!" " Two can play at that game," mutters the old thief- taker pointedly. " Beware, she doesn't catch you, my boulevard Adonis ! " But the warning has fallen on empty air. Maurice de Verney has torn off his dressing-gown, plunged into bed, and is already asleep and snoring the snores of an ex- hausted manhood. " Will Monsieur have a cup of coffee before he goes ? " suggests Francois. " No no coffee but a glass of brandy ! " ejaculates Claude. And this being given him, he gets down the steps into the quiet Rue d'Hautville, just waking up into the bustle of another day of that gay, dashing, ephemeral Second Empire, and thinks ruefully to himself : " He'll get all the glory of this affair, and curse him ! I take all the risk. If anything happens to that imperial brat, I'm a goner ! " Then he gazes up at No. 33 Au Premier, where he has left Maurice de Verney in bed, and mutters : " Asleep when the fate of the Empire is in your hands ! My jack-o'-dandy, my court pet, my woman charmer ; are you a mountebank or are you a colossus ? " CHAPTER III. YOUNG MICROBE OF THE RUE DE JERUSALEM. AN hour after this, Le Chevalier de Verney, springing out of bed once more, proceeds to make a toilet rather different from the usual one of gentlemen in his rank in THAT FRENCHMAN ! 23 * life ; being more that of an athlete in training for the ring than that of a swell of the boulevards. First incased in heavy flannels, and muffled in a blan- ket-overcoat, though it is a rather warm April morning, he runs round his apartments, using not only his bed- chamber, but his parlor and library to give length to his course, and taking, in his stride, the articles of furniture that come in his path ; vaulting over arm-chairs and leap- ing tables, turning, stopping and suddenly changing hia direction, as if dodging some imaginary adversary or pursuer ; in a manner to give the greatest quickness, agil- ity and activity to his muscles of locomotion. After, perhaps, ten minutes of this rapid work, he turns his attention to the exercise of the upper parts of his body, using the Indian clubs for a moment, then the lighter dumb-bells ; while doing this, rapidly running about and jumping with them in his hands, so as to place every individual muscle in action at one moment. All this is done with such incredible rapidity, lightness and grace that Francois, though he has seen such an exhibition every morning since he has been in Mon- sieur de Verney's service, cries out, " Mon Dieu! Were you not a Hercules, I should call you an ante- lope ! " " Perhaps I'm both, Fra^ois," remarks his master, with French vanity, not even panting from his extraordinary exertions. 4< Let me see if I'm all right as to power," and he seizes the giant dumb-bell of his collection, a hundred and fifty pounder, and puts it up quite easily, but does so only once, as if for a test. "Parbleu ! I believe I'm stronger than ever this morn- ing now as to my activity. Dodge me, Franois ! " he cries. And before the Algerian veteran can make two steps, he has run to him, caught him by one arm, and propelled him over his back like the bow does the arrow. The war-trained follower, as he hurtles through the air, sees his young master disappearing into his bath-room, debonairly humming an earthly aria La Patti has made divine to him the night before at Les Italiens, where she is now having the last of her maiden rule, and sing- ing the last of her virgin songs. Monsieur de Verney has been thoughtful of both his bric-a-brac and his servant, and the place he has selected 24 THAT FRENCHMAN ! for the landing of Fran9ois is the soft .mattress of his luxurious bed. Taking a somersault from the force of impact and groveling among the lace-trimmed pillows, Monsieur Francois looks curiously after his master and mutters to himself, " I never thought but one man in the world could give such a fall. I never saw but one wrestler in Paris use that peculiar throw in such lightning style. Can it be possible that my master is ' He checks himself here, and a moment after says, "Pshaw! Monsieur de Verney has something else to look after than struggling for the applause of a mob and the amorous glances of court beauties from the concealment of their boxes. The chevalier can get them without He is interrupted here by a cry from the bath-room. " You forgot to put the ice in the shower, Francois ; it is hardly bracing enough." A moment after, de Verney appears, and sweeping the water from his eyes mutters, " The hair towels ! Quick ! " " Mon Dieu ! " thinks the servitor as he rubs his master down. " He's an Apollo ! " In this he is wrong. Maurice de Verney, whose shin- ing skin, rosy with health and exercise, is just tinted by the morning sun that steals in through the lace and silk of his windows, is not an Apollo, but a brawny Hercules concealed in the graceful outlines and quick-moving limbs of a Mercury. Perhaps he is better described as a physical combina- tion of the two. The tremendous power of the loins, hips and back, the magnificent development of the fore- arms, all indicate the giant strength of the demi-god who clubbed lions to death and held Atlas up from earth ; while the lithe, loose play of the muscles of the whole figure, the graceful ease of movement of the per- fectly proportioned hands and feet, give to the whole body the lightness and agility that is pre-eminent in the god of motion. Looking on him, a man would have exclaimed, " How grand ! " a woman would have cried, " How beautiful ! " For any coarseness or brutality or brawniness, suggested by his enormous physical strength, is contradicted by the light, graceful activity of each pose of his body, and entirely destroyed by the intelligence of his beaming THAT FRENCHMAN ! 25 blue eyes and soft, passionate mouth, that would have made the face they gazed on almost effeminate, had these not. been dominated by a grand forehead and massive lower jaws, that gave determination as well as fortitude and courage to this man's face. This face, however, is deeply thoughtful. Maurice de Verne'y is just pondering whether he has been entirely wise in his interview of two hours ago with the head of police. " I should have treated him with more cour- tesy," he thinks. " Youth should appear to respect age, even when it despises it. Monsieur Claude may, if he dares and is vindictive, place some nasty obstacles in the way of my investigation." A moment after he mutters to himself, " Oh ! but it did me good to show him I re- sented his two years' jealousy." With this he turns to his valet, and asks suddenly : " What did Monsieur Claude do on leaving my room, this morning? " " He asked for brandy," answers Franfois, scnten- tiously. " And drank it ? " " As if it were water ! Then either that overcame him or something else, for he seemed almost to stagger down the stairs." " He must have been hit pretty hard," smiles Maurice, and with the smile dismisses Monsieur Claude from his mind, and runs over his various plans of action for the day. While he is thinking, he is dressing, and at 9.45 A. M. steps into his dining-room in the light morning dress of a dandy of the Second Empire. Embellished by the finest of linen, the daintiest, lightest and loosest of silk cravats, and the freshest of rose-buds, Maurice de Ver- ney has more the appearance of a boulevard butterfly than that of a man beginning one of those games of chance where victory is life-long triumph, and defeat the loss of even another chance to try again. " Egad ! " he thinks, " if anything happens to that ' hope-of-the- empire ' now, I'd better turn Republican ; there'll be no hope for me under Napoleon." However, he sits down to his rolls, eggs, and coffee, and has a good appetite, for he suddenly orders Francois, " Have a steak a la Americain cooked. I shall have no time for anything till dinner, and starvation sharpens the intellect for the pursuit of provisions, not criminals." 26 THAT FRENCHMAN ! He has hardly finished his steak when Francois comes in to him with a very serious face and says : " There are four gentlemen in the parlor who wish to speak to you. They look as if they were the agents of Monsieur Claude.* I was once on duty for a year at the Prefecture of Police,; and know the look of these gentry. You are not in trouble, Monsieur de Verney?" And the old military servant gazes at his young master with a good deal of love in his sturdy countenance. Standing as he does with military erectness, Francois Le Brun, his "hair slightly grizzled, his face still tinged with the tan of an African sun, his forehead and chin wearing the honorable scars of Arab sword-cuts, his eyes piercing, his mouth firm, save where the under lip trembles with anxiety for the young man he loves, the old French soldier looks like a veteran of the First Republic, one of those that made the once lost field of Marengo a final triumph, and the impossible bridge of Arcola a military possibility. Noting his concern, de Verney remarks : " There is no danger to me, Fran9ois, if I succeed. Perhaps it is my duty to you to tell you that I am about engaging in an enterprise of the greatest importance to France. That what I require from you are two things you have always given me obedience and silence." " And also love ! " mutters the old servant. But his master does not apparently hear this, as he says suddenly : " Send those gentlemen in to me. Time is precious, and I can eat and talk also." Fran9ois salutes, and a moment after shows in four very peculiar looking gentlemen. They introduce themselves by the names of Alphonse Jolly, Henri Marcillac, Victor Regnier, and Ravel Microbe. Messieurs Marcillac and Jolly are staid vet- erans of the Rue de Jerusalem. They have been spies upon Republicans during Royalty in France, informers upon Imperialists during the brief Republic, and now are having an eye upon Monsieur Rochefort and his reds; for they are simply detective policemen, and have only the polities of those who employ them; i.e., the party in power., Jolly can remember as far back as the time of Vidocq, and is very proud of having made his debut on the police under that celebrated old galley-slave and thief-taker. THAT FRENCHMAN T 2"J These two have been already employed watching the actions of Monsieur Hermann Margo, the suspect ; they tell precisely the same story as to his actions as Monsieur Claude. Since they have found him in Paris, he has done nothing, spoken to no one on the streets, and when they searched his room they found only the manuscript of a chemical treatise which he evidently was writing. " He has fixed habits," remarks Jolly. " He always takes his exercise between ten and twelve in the forenoon." " Always ? Where does he walk ? " queries Maurice. " On the main boulevard. His beat is as regular as a sergeant de ville's, from Montmartre to the Rue Royale ; on the right hand side going west, and the opposite one returning." " He makes that promenade each day ? " " Invariably." " Never goes any further ? " " Never ! Did he not from his actions seem to know Paris, I should have thought he was afraid of getting lost," laughs Marcillac. " He does not speak to a soul ? " " Not a human being. Even buys his rose-bud each day silently. Simply lays down a ten sons piece and picks up a boutonniere." " From a flower-girl?" says Maurice quickly. " No. Always at the kiosk opposite the Varietes. It is the nearest one to the commencement of his prom- enade." " That's all you know ? " " Everything ! " " Then," orders Maurice, " you two gentlemen will proceed at once to Monsieur Hermann's lodgings, No. 55 Rue de Maubeuge. He is hardly more than awake by this time, as -I left him at three o'clock this morning." At this astounding statement to the four detectives, they gaze at each other. De Verney, however, makes no comment, and continues, " You will note every movement of his or any visitors he may have. In case he goes out, you, Jolly, will follow his promenade, and you, Marcillac, will still watch his lodgings, but send a messenger imme- diately to me, notifying me of his absence. You had better go at once." The two take their leave, Maurice remarking to them 28 THAT FRENCHMAN ! en passant, "I presume you are good friends with la concierge ? " " Ain't we," returns Jolly, with a solemn grin. " The old woman who keeps Hermann's lodgings was once Rose Passeul of the Odeon, in '45. I was a wild boy then. Eh ! Marcillac ? " and he gives a sexagenarian nudge to his companion as they exit. After a moment's contemplation upon Monsieur Her- mann's regularity of promenade, and invariable purchase of rose-buds, de Verney turns to the other two Agents dc SArete. They are in great contrast to the men who have left, and much younger, Regnier being scarcely forty, and Microbe hardly over twenty-five years of age. Regnier is a stern-looking man, whose grin is even savage, but he has an appearance of firmness that would lead one to trust him on all occasions, even where it cost him much to be faithful. He is laconic in speech, and carefully though not expensively dressed, while Jolly and Marcillac are probably niggardly in their habits ; their clothes being apparently second-hand suits pur- chased in some slop shop of the Faubourg St. Antoine, and then worn to a second old age, that is more ragged, greasy and disreputable than their first one. In bright contrast to even the respectability of Regnier is the radiant young Microbe. This eleve of the Rue de Jerusalem, whose father was a thief-taker before him, and who has, as it were, grown up in the business, is gorgeous in the resplendent attire of a petit creve, that shows he would like to rival Duval le jeune in magnificent raiment ; were the detective busi- ness rolling in millions like selling soup at ten centimes a plate to Parisian bourgeois. To these two Maurice briefly explains the business in which he wishes their aid, telling them a good deal about Monsieur Hermann, but nothing about the flower-girl of the Jardin d'Acclimatation or the Prince Imperial. Now he says, " Monsieur Regnier, what do you think ? " " I never think," replies that laconic officer ; " when I am a subordinate, I do what I am told, and let my supe- rior do the thinking." " Very well, in that case you will go immediately to the flower kiosk opposite the Varietes. Stay there until relieved, and report to me who keeps the place, and if THAT FRENCHMAN ! 29 anything whatsoever happens unusual or striking in the business of the stand ; also, if any person calls more than once ; their appearance and what they say or do ! " re- marks Maurice. *' As you order ! " says Regnier, and with that and a bow leaves the apartment. Then the chevalier turns to Microbe with a smile and suggests, " What do you think ? " " I think Regnier is an infernal fool ! " ejaculates the dandy policeman, whom Maurice can see has for the last few minutes been nervous to get in his word. " He couldn't make head nor tail of the matter, so he resorted to his laconics ; old detectives are like old doctors, and in dubious cases prefer to say nothing and look wise. Now 1 like to say what I think, and I think this Hermann Margo, or Schultz, takes his walk every day between ten and twelve o'clock on his beaten track because he expects some day to meet the man with the other half of those cipher letters then they will compare them, read the cipher and destroy them. That is the reason he still has or had his letters and still takes his walks." " And young detectives are very like young doctors," re- joins Maurice. " But I entirely agree with you, Monsieur Microbe. However, we'll test this to-day. In case our supposition is right, the#man Hermann not having his letters will not take his walk, or will vary or modify it in some way. Do you think the rose-buds he buys at the kiosk have any bearing on the matter ? " " Probably ! " remarks Microbe after contemplatively whistling a bar or two of Offenbach's Orpheus. " But before 1 speak definitely, I'd like to know a little more about the kiosk and its salespeople ! " " I see young detectives are not always like young doctors ! " laughs Maurice. " They have sometimes doubts in regard to their diagnosis. However, you're about the man I'm looking for you have youth, activity, wit, and, at times, prudence. The affair in which I need your aid is of such a peculiar nature and concerns so exalted a personage that I shall not tell you all in this matter at least, not at present." " That is as monsieur pleases," replies young Microbe, " but, if I don't know all you know, don't expect my guessing to be as sharp as yours is," 30 THAT FRENCHMAN 1 " I must take that chance," returns de Verney then after a pause he asks a question, " Do you know, or have you seen in your wanderings about Paris (for from the cut of your coat I should imagine you see most of the sights of the city), a pretty flower-girl who often sells children flowers at the Jardin d'Acclimatation ? " The answer he gets astonishes him. " What ! Louise ! " calmly remarks Ravel, stroking his imperial supercil- iously ; " I should rather think I do ! She's the most fetching thing in the female flower line that's been seen in Paris since Isabel, who used to be the pet of the Jockey Club and sell those aristocrats of the turf posies at a napoleon apiece. In a month she'll be more popular than ever Isabel was. Louise is knowing ; she plays her cards like a croupier at Baden-Baden. She's mashed the Prince Imperial, and that little potentate comes three times a week to the Jardin, or the Bois just at the gates of it, sulks when he doesn't see her, and will buy flowers for his playmates from no other hands ! " This revelation gives a shiver to Maurice who fears his assistant may be so much in love with Louise that he may not only be useless but dangerous to him. After turning this over in his mind, he is delighted he has told Microbe no more than he has, and asks carelessly, " You know this Louise very well then ? " The answer that comes relieves him. " Unfortunately I don't," says Ravel, with a French shrug of his shoulders. " I have tried to know Made- moiselle, and I think she knows me ; for, the other day, I gave her one of my Quartier-Latin glances, and she gave me in return the scowl of a fiend and that after I had paid a. franc to the extortionate little witch for a rose not worth two sous." "Is she so small you always call her petite V asks Maurice. " No, but she's so deuced pretty. I always call pretty women petite, don't you ? " mutters Ravel. " However, I'll have a try at an acquaintance again before I've done with la petite diable ! " As he says this last, Microbe's eyes sparkle with anticipated triumph, he passes his hand through his hair, pulls his cravat into place, and utters complacently, " Few of them resist me long ! " " No, I should judge not," echoes Maurice. " But THAT FRENCHMAN ! 3! you must forego your triumph over Louise, at least for the present. For the purposes of this business, I wish to make her acquaintance myself." " Wh-e-u-gh ! " This is a very prolonged and very knowing whistle from Ravel Microbe. " For the purposes of this business," continues Mau- rice sternly, " and for no other ! I wish to become acquainted with her under circumstances that will open the way to an easy continuance. Perhaps, I had better be thought by her rather a hero. Now, you must give me that opportunity, Monsieur Microbe ! " " I ! How ? " " By appearing- to insult her. You must wait until the girl leaves the ' Bois ' on her way home and gets into one of the quieter streets. By-the-bye, do you know where the young lady lives ? " " Not exactly, but it's somewhere in the direction of Passy." " Out in that suburb she's pretty certain to get into some street where there are few people. Then you must approach her, and but I had better give you your instructions in writing, so that there can be no mistake ! " Maurice writes down a dozen lines on paper, and, after careful consideration, signs the document, hands it to Microbe, and says, " Follow this implicitly." After looking over his instructions, young Microbe gives a yell of laughter and cries : " This is a comedy ! " " No ! " replies de Verney sternly. " Unless we do our duty very sharply, it is a tragedy that will shake the world ! " " Very well," returns his assistant rather demurely. "I'll put on my Mabille suit, and do your bidding." Then he says suddenly: " And if we succeed in this great matter, Monsieur de Verney, what am I to get ? " " My ruby ring, that you have been looking at so atten- tively, and admiring for the last -ten minutes and the reward that a detective gets when he has done something that astonishes the Emperor." But here Microbe astonishes him, for he gets up sud- denly and carefully inspects the ruby ring. "The first part of your reward is definite, Monsieur le Chevalier," he remarks, " and I always like to know the value of my property, for that ruby ring is now mine. 32 THAT FRENCHMAN ! By George ! it's worth two hundred louis." This last in a tone of joy. " Ah ! you have the confidence of youth," laughs Maurice. " Yes ; and the activity of one, also," returns Microbe. " This comedy, or tragedy, as you describe it, shall be played to the letter, Monsieur de Verney. Au revoir, till we meet before the flower-girl of the Jardin d'Accli- matation." And with a grin this pupil of the Rue de Jerusalem vanishes. " I wonder if I can trust him," meditates his director. " I must trust somebody ; and better youth, wit, activity, even with rashness, than old age, stupidity, and ancient rule of thumb." CHAPTER IV. NUMBER 55 RUE DE MAUBEUGE. AT this moment Francois whispers in his ear, " There are some more of the same kind in the salon ; they dropped in by one's and two's quietly while you were talking to the first four." " What time is it ? " " A little after ten." " Then I haven't a moment to lose," and Maurice de Verney steps into his parlor, where he quietly gives, to the men he meets there, the most minute instructions regard- ing their watch over the Prince Imperial from the moment he leaves the Tuileries to visit the Bois de Boulogne, until he returns to the safety of the palace and its military guards. These instructions have been very carefully thought out, and are delivered in writing with the utmost circum- spection. As the Officiers de S6rete depart, Maurice gives a sigh of relief. Now, in case the Prince goes to the Jardin d'Acclimatation, he'll be well taken care of. Though Tuesday is not one of hi regular days for visiting the Bois, there is no certainly that this petted young gen- tleman may not get permission and drive to the Jardin d'Acclimatation at any time. THAT FRENCHMAN ! 33 His rr.ind released to a certain extent from this care, the chevalier is ready to turn his immediate attention to the chemist with the cipher letters. Of each of these he makes an accurate and very care- ful copy, which he locks up ; then re-ties the originals with the little red ribbon that was on them, and places the package in his pocket. He has hardly finished this when a messenger comes from Monsieur Marcillac, stating that the man Hermann has left his rooms for his morning walk, that Monsieur Jolly has strolled after him, and he has, as ordered, noti- fied Monsieur de Verney that the man Hermann's rooms are now empty. At this, Maurice instantly puts on his hat and departs for the Rue de Maubeuge, scarce noting in his hurry that the day is almost a perfect one, and Paris is appar- ently coming out to enjoy it, the streets being already full of people. He walks rapidly up the Rue d'Haut- ville to the Place de La Fayette, then, passing the church of St. Vincent de Paul on his right, he turns into the Rue de Belzunce, and is at 55 Rue de Maubeuge within ten minutes after he has received the report. Here he is immediately joined by Marcillac, who has been spending his time seated near the window of an oppo- site wine-shop. This gentleman tells him that, since the man Hermann left twenty minutes ago, followed by Mon- sieur Jolly, no one has visited No. 55. "What direction did Hermann take?" asks Maurice hurriedly. " The usual one towards the main boulevards the one he has taken since we have supervised his move- ments ! " remarks Marcillac, with a shrug of his shoulders. " Was there anything unusual in his appearance ? " " No, I think not." This is disappointing. Maurice had expected that the loss of the letters would have changed the man Her- mann's movements in some way. Not having his half of the cipher, he would not try to meet the man with the other half. " I think he walked a little faster than usual," contin- ues Marcillac, evidently anxious to display his powers of observation. " Very well," replies de Verney. " If all is ready, I 34 THAT FRENCHMAN ! would like to look at Monsieur Hermann's apartments la concierge understands ? " " Everything ! " replies Marcillac. " She has the key of the room ready for us now. Ah, here it is ! " For, while speaking, the two have crossed the street and stand at the window of madame, la concierge, who is looking at them with a relic of the old-time Odeon grin on her face, and the key in readiness for Monsieur Marcillac. " Show me his rooms," whispers Maurice, and they ascend to the third floor where the man Hermann has three small apartments at the back of the house. Then, the door being unlocked, he goes in, saying : " Marcillac, please step down stairs and return the key to the old woman ; this is a spring lock, and when 1 shut the door it will lock itself. In case of Hermann's sudden return, let la concierge give him the key without a word ; I'll trust to my wits to pass him in the darkness of the stairs. After giving the woman the key, do you go out into the street and prevent Hermann's surprising me here examining his effects." The officer turns to go, when de Verney suddenly asks, " Had you any signal when you searched his room before ? " " Yes sir. You see that line hanging carelessly from the roof of this house past these windows, and descend- ing to the yard ? " "Certainly," replies Maurice, for they have now entered the room, though they have been careful neither to touch nor disarrange anything in it. " Well, I go into the yard and swing the line twice against the window ? " " That will be all I need. Now you had better get on the look-out as quickly as possible." "All right, sir." With this the old detective officer leaves the young volunteer in possession of the apart- ments, and, taking the key, his steps can be heard upon the creaking stairs. Maurice instantly closes the door opening on to the passage-way, then gazes about him, and a moment after mutters to himself : " Cursed if this isn't the meanest business I was ever in ; searching for this poor devil's se- crets like a burglar or a sneak-thief. I'm hanged if I don't feel like one now." A moment after, however, phi- losophy comes to his rescue, and he remarks : " Pish ! THAT FRENCHMAN ! 35 Conspirators must be fought with their own weapons," and begins the examination of the rooms. These consist of a little parlor, a smaller bed-room off it the two occupying the whole back of the house upon that floor. Behind the parlor, however, is a smaller room, unlighted, save by artificial light, which, though scarcely more than a large closet, has apparently been fitted up as a chemical laboratory. The furniture of all these rooms is of the plainest, the tables and chairs being of painted pine. The bed in the next room, which Maurice can see from the place at which he stands, is without ornament, and its linen pillows, blankets, and coverlet by no means of the finest, though clean enough. The parlor is lighted by two windows, and the bed-room by one. These look out upon an old-fashioned court-yard, quite small, but still capable of containing an immense amount of French filth. This place has almost reached its storage capacity for rubbish, in the form of old bottles, rags, and bric-a-brac of the street, collected, no doubt, for sale to the traveling chiffonnier. Any one jumping out of the window would assuredly be cut nearly in pieces by the bottles he would fall upon. " In case I am surprised here, I have no means of exit save the regulation door and stairs," thinks the chevalier, as he surveys this, and inspects the windows opposite, to be sure that no one is watching his search from across the court-yard. This apparently being not the case, de Verney turns to the main portion of his labor. He carefully inspects the rooms as to any dust or dirt there may be in them ; first, to discover if, by some disturbed dust, some unused por- tion of the room has been employed for the concealment of any object ; second, to be sure that he will leave no tracks of hands or feet about the apartments to betray his having been there, to their occupant upon his return. This examination he soon finds a useless labor. Glancing at the impromptu laboratory, Maurice says sud- denly : " Pshaw ! The idea of looking for dust in a chemist's rooms. A few particles in one of his experi- ments would spoil his investigation. A chemist hates dust from force of science ! " This is apparently true in this case. The apartments 36 THAT FRENCHMAN ! are models of cleanliness, though the bed has not yet been made for the day, showing that its owner had evac- uated it in a hurry. Two untouched rolls, a pot of coffee, and some butter upon the table in the parlor are an additional proof of Monsieur Hermann's haste this morning. " If he's in such a hurry to get away, he may be in a hurry to get back," thinks the chevalier, and he proceeds with his work in a hurry also, for he has no thought of Hermann having fled from the room. The man's clothes, overcoat, and some clean collars, just returned from the wash, with a number of articles of personal convenience, all contradict such an idea. Maurice first examines the bedroom and finds nothing suspicious the parlor gives him the same result, though he makes the investigation very regularly and thoroughly ; even examining the gas-burners for what may be con- cealed in them. He does this, not by turning on the gas and seeing if it flows freely, which would be the most rapid test; but carefully, by means of a small pair of pincers he finds in the laboratory, unscrews and replaces each burner. The first method might leave a suspicious odor behind it. He has almost given up hope of any result when, as he turns from the room, chancing to glance into the grate of the open fireplace, not recently used, the weather having been warm, he sees three faded white rose-buds that have been carelessly tossed there. The man has been in Paris three days, on each day he has purchased or received a white rose-bud Maurice remembers the last words of the cipher : " ADDITIONAL TO FOLLOW EACH RED ROSE-BUD." If his reading of the cipher is correct, Monsieur Her- mann has, so far, received no communication since his arrival in Paris. He carefully examines each faded bud ; they are in no way different to those florists usually sell, and he replaces them where he found them. There is only the laboratory now left. To investigate this he is compelled to light a gas-jet, and is relieved to find this suite of apartments does not have a separate meter. No indication will be given of his having been here by any increased registry of the amount of gas used. THAT FRENCHMAN ! 37 " This increase would be scarcely noticeable, but it's these small things, these minor details, that usually mean success or failure in most people's lives, and I don't like to take chances," meditates Maurice. All this time he, as rapidly as possible, is inspecting the little laboratory of the German. There are only the ordinary bottles, beakers, and retorts, together with the usual tubing for handling gases ; a large wash-bottle, apparently arranged for the genera- tion of carbonic-acid gas, as it is filled with broken mar- ble, and a couple of good-sized rubber tubes attached to it. These, with a little gas-furnace, a blow-pipe, and a test-tube or two, together with some bottles of apparently harmless drugs, constitute the whole affair. The laboratory is apparently innocent, but, though having only the general knowledge of physical science that comes with a good military education, Maurice de Verney cannot help reflecting that if Monsieur Hermann is conducting any really intricate investigation or exper- iment, how inadequate his apparatus is for such work ; and muses : " It's all very well to believe that Sir Hum- phry Davy discovered the principles of the safety-lamp with a few clay pipes and the materials of a small drug- shop in Cornwall ; but he was a boy of twelve, could get no better and was a genius. This man is in Paris, within reach of the conveniences of some of our great laboratories " He has time for no further thought ; the line in the court-yard is flung violently twice against the window. It is Marcillac's signal ! The man Hermann is returning ! Maurice instantly turns out the gas, steps cautiously into the hall and closes the door behind him, trying it to be sure the spring lock has worked. He has left every article in the precise condition in which he found it ; not even the most observing could sus- pect it had been visited. He turns away from the door feeling sure that Hermann will have no suspicions. As he thinks this, however, even his iron nerves give a sudden snap. The man Hermann, coming up in three- stairs-a-jump active bounds, is right upon him. Before he can turn away he will surely be perceived. Almost by instinct Maurice raises his hand and knocks 38 THAT FRENCHMAN ! upon the door loudly then, after a moment's pause, repeats the operation, emphasizing it with a slightly vicious kick and cries : " Wake up ! " " Ho ! ah ! You wish to see me ? " remarks the man Hermann, who has watched these attacks upon his door, at first, perhaps, in a slightly suspicious manner. "By your voice you're the person I'm looking for," remarks de Verney, turning suddenly towards him. " It's too dark to see you, but the voice is that of last night. I thought you hadn't got up yet." "Ah ! I recognize your voice also now ! " returns Her- mann. " You're the gentleman who came to my assistance when I was attacked by those cut-throats last night. Your explanation saved me trouble with the police." " I had two reasons for calling on you this morn- ing," says Maurice. " But, if you'll open the door, I'll be able to see a little better what I'm doing." " Yes, the light here is only suitable for cats, though they seem to prefer the court-yard by their evening soirees musicales" laughs Hermann. " But come in ! " With this he unlocks the door and, throwing it open, says, " Sit down and smoke a pipe while I get something to eat. I awoke late, and business compelled breakfast to wait." " Thanks, I'll light a cigar," murmurs de Verney, declining politely the meerschaum, whose dark color indi- cates many a smoking-bout in the beer halls of Heidel- berg and Freiburg. " Come, have breakfast with me ! I can't give you much some boiled eggs, rolls, coffee. Eh ? Don't say no ! I am delighted to see you. I know so few, I speak to no one, I am all alone, and the use of the tongue is as neces- sary to man as to woman." " Trite but true ! " remarks Maurice, lighting his Havana. "If you don't believe it, go without friends, compan- ions, small-talk just for three days that's my limit of experience and you'll love any woman, or man either, 'Avho'll talk to you and listen in return. But you'll have breakfast with me ? " " No, that is impossible ; I have already eaten," returns Maurice brusquely. Accepting the hospitality, breaking bread with this man whom he is seeking to THAT FRENCHMAN ! 39 make a criminal, seems so contemptibly treacherous that he is almost impolite in his refusal. He says : " You prepare your breakfast, then I'll tell you what brought me here." " All right ; I'll not keep you waiting long. A chemist can always cook. It's part of the science ! " " I don't understand you ! " " No ! then look at me ! " With this Hermann opens a drawer, produces two eggs, takes a glass beaker, half fills it with water, lights a gas argand burner, pops the beaker over it and has the water boiling in two minutes. In go the eggs. While they boil, the coffee is heating over the gas-furnace he has lighted between-times ; the rolls ditto. During the time he has been doing this, Maurice has been attentively studying him. Monsieur Hermann is about five feet nine, well-built, florid, blonde, and Ger- man in appearance. His blue-gray eyes seem honest, but they have a restless, dissatisfied look, as if searching for something they could never find. He is apparently about thirty-five, has unusual vivacity for a German, and his French but little accent. His hands are white, save where they bear the stains of acids and chemicals, and have that quick, delicate dexterity of movement that constant labor- atory manipulation gives. He would seem happy and contented but for a slight look of anxiety on his face and the seeking glance in his eyes that, at times, becomes intense almost to the point of wildness. Maurice also once catches a peculiar ner- vous twitching of the lower lip as the German passes the open fire-place, and rather guesses it is caused by some association brought to his mind by the three faded white rose-buds. The eggs have hardly begun to boil before Hermann turns to his guest and says : " Monsieur de Verney, you were kind enough to give me your name and card last night ; will you now be kind enough to tell me why you have taken the trouble to visit me ? " " Certainly. For two reasons. First, I wished to find out whether you felt any bad effects from the attack those garroters made on you last night ? " " Oh, a little stiff in the back, perhaps, and one of my wrists slightly sprained and your second reason ? " 40 THAT FRENCHMAN ! " \v as this ! " And Maurice hands to the German the little packet of cipher letters. " Ah ! you found them ! " This would be a cry of excited joy, were it not forced down by a strong will. " Yes. Just as I left you last night I picked them up. I should have handed them to you then, but you had already closed your door. So I thought I'd step round this morning and see if they were not yours." " They are mine, and I'm very much obliged to you," says Hermann rapidly, " very much obliged to you you have they are from my sister and I value them. You Frenchmen only keep your sweethearts' letters ; we Ger- mans those of our sisters also." " Ah ! then your sister is not here ? " " No, she was here when she wrote these letters. At present she is away I expect to see her in a week or two." This last is said in some hesitation. " You will excuse me making a quick meal, I must go out again," the young man continues, placing his breakfast, that is now ready, upon the table before him, and falling upon it as if time was now very precious, though he had been in no hurry before he regained the letters. Noting this, Maurice thinks it best to let him go out, and then see what his actions are. He rises and remarks, " Now that I have fulfilled my errand, I must also attend to my duties of the day. Good- by!" " Good-by, my friend ! " cries Hermann cordially. " I am again obliged to you ; you have permitted me to use my tongue that has been nearly silent since I left Berlin." " You must have been in Paris before ; you speak French very well ! " " Ah ! you flatter, but my father was French my mother German ; my name shows that: Hermann Margo." " Then it is curious that you have no friends in Paris ! " " Not at all ; I have never lived here ! I came on sud- denly from Berlin, I permit rne to be confidential 1 am employed on a certain chemical discovery. Sugar, starch and flour are simply charcoal and water in slightly vary- ing proportions. Thus, sugar is C I2 H It O It " (using the old notation common to that day); "that is, in twenty- three pounds of sugar there are twelve pounds of char- THAT FRENCHMAN ! 4! coal, eleven of water, and nothing else. From twenty-three pounds of lump sugar I can make twelve pounds of charcoal and eleven of water. That is easy but the reverse? Ah ! that is another question. That is what I am trying to discover ; that is what I have nearly found to make charcoal and water into sugar, starch and flour. There will be plenty of money in that ! Eh ? Four days ago I discovered in Berlin that a fried of mine, a fellow chemist, was trying to spy out the process I have nearly completed. My best security was in flight ; the next day I was here safe ! That villain shall never share the profits and honor of my discovery. You will excuse my having said so much, but sometimes my invention excites me. Good-by ! " and he closes his door on Maurice, leaving him rather astonished in the hall. The man's manner has been peculiar and nervous. Maurice has discovered but little from his visit to No. 55 Rue de Maubeuge, he meditates as he goes down the stairs only that Hermann Margo was very glad to get his letters back again, and had received so far three white rose-buds. At the foot of the stairs he is joined by Marcillac, who informs him that Monsieur Jolly, who has followed Her- mann home, will make his report in the wine-shop oppo- site. To this Maurice crosses, making sure that Margo does not see him, and there encounters the detective who has dogged Hermann's morning walk. Jolly's words are few and to the point. He followed the suspect to the grand boulevards there was nothing unusual in his manner only he walked about twice as fast as he did on other mornings seemed to be in a great hurry. He turned into the Boulevard Mont- martre, went straight to the kiosk opposite the Varie- tes, and bought another rose-bud laid down his money, and with it a letter which the girl put away on the little shelf behind her. " She did not open it ? " inquires Maurice hurriedly. " No, sir. Put it away quite carelessly." " Very well ; I'll try to get that letter ! " remarks Maurice. " You stay here and follow Hermann " He has time to say no more, for Monsieur Jolly, with- out a word, strolls out of the wine-shop. 42 THAT FRENCHMAN ! Maurice looks after him almost in anger at his abrupt- ness, then gives a start. The man, Hermann Margo, is striding down the Rue de Maubeuge at the top of his speed, and Monsieur Jolly, according to orders, is dodg- ing along after him. A moment after, Hermann crosses the street, and Maurice gets another sensation. The German chemist has left routine behind him, and is now wearing in his buttonhole a red rose-bud. After watching Hermann and the pursuing Jolly pass out of sight, de Verney, leaving Marcillac still on watch at 55 Rue de Maubeuge, walks rapidly home, where he expects by this time some report from Regnier, who has been on observation at the flower kiosk. In this he is not disappointed. A note has arrived from that officer stating the following facts : First, the man Hermann left a letter at the kiosk at 10:25, and immediately went away without taking his usual daily promenade. This is no more than Jolly has already reported ; but this additional information from Monsieur Regnier is more interesting : The letter delivered by Hermann was in a yellow envelope. He fRegnier) had been enabled to be sure of this, for the girl had carelessly placed the note upon a shelf behind her. He had thought of trying to purloin this letter, and, after lounging about indolently for some time, had sauntered up to the kiosk to make the attempt or further observations, as most judicious ; but the letter had disappeared, though he is sure that no one bought flowers there during the intervening time, and only the proprietor and a girl of sixteen who minds the stand in his absence were near the place. The proprietor's name is Auguste Lieber ; he purchased the business about a month ago, together with the gardens and green-houses near Passy, in which he grows most of the flowers he sells. This man had always been at the kiosk when the German bought his boutonnttre before. This morning Hermann, apparently in a great hurry, is half an hour before his usual time, and Lieber not present. The rose-bud he bought was a red one. On receiving it, he looked troubled and immediately retraced his steps, instead of taking his daily promenade on the boulevards. " This, of course, accounts for Hermann's unusually THAT FRENCHMAN f 43 quick return to his lodgings, which nearly disclosed me to him in his apartments," meditates de Verney. All thought on this subject is here knocked out of his head by young Microbe, who makes an unexpected appearance. " You are surprised to see me," says that volatile young gentleman. " Only thought I'd do what you told me ? In that you wrong me ! Monsieur de Verney, you have honored me with your confidence in contrast to the detective machines you have made do machine duty looking after that man Hermann and his gang. I wish to do more than your simple instructions call for. The plot we arranged between us cannot be carried out till three or four this afternoon, therefore I've had some extra time on my hands, and have used it upon this investigation. This information may be of some use to you. I wrote it down, fearing you might not be here." He hands him a paper, and Maurice reads this model of laconic brevity and accurate statement : " The girl Louise was never known as a flower-seller till about a month ago. Discovered this by general conversation at cafes, wine- shops, etc. " Louise lives on the Rue des Vignes, near the Rue de Passy. House and garden have no number. Her full name is Louise M. Tourney. Learned this from Achille Pomard, a barber, who resides near her and tried to flirt with her, but was frightened off by the severeness of her manner and savage glances of her eyes. ' ' The Prince, although it is not his regular day, visits the Bois de Boulogne this afternoon. Dropped on this by pumping groom in imperial stables, who states that his barouche is ordered for 2 P.M. Consequently the Prince has some companion other than his tutor ; when there are only two, they go in a victoria or cabriolet. " RAVEL MICROBE." " Have you any further information ? " asks Maurice, after perusing the above. " Yes ! As I returned here along the Boulevard des Italiens, I passed Monsieur Jolly. He was following a man I presume to be the Hermann of our investigation. This man wore a red rose-bud. Second. As I passed by the flower kiosk opposite the Varietes, I encountered Mon- sieur Regnier on watch, who gave me this note for you." 44 THAT FRENCHMAN ! He hands Maurice a scrap of paper which reads : " The man Hermann came hack hurriedly at ten minutes past eleven. He went to the kiosk again, said something to the girl, the proprietor having for some reason again left the shop. She shook her head at him. Then he gave her another letter, yellow envelope, and began his usual daily promenade of the boulevards. I can see Monseiur Jolly, as I write, walking after him. " REGMER." These actions of the German e.re susceptible of but one interpretation by de Verney. Hermann, having lost his cipher letters, could no longer read any additional instruc- tions ; consequently left a note (stating his loss) for some one who could reproduce or replace these letters. Then, having no means of reading anything given to him, omitted his promenade. Having recovered these cipher letters again, he has, as soon as possible, tried to get back his first letter ; and failing in that, has left another notifying the person to whom he sent his first that he has recovered the necessary documents. Next, having regained his means of reading, he is taking his promenade, hoping to receive additional instructions. Further reflections are cut short by young Microbe's remarking : " If you wish me to perform my part in your drama, I have hardly time to make up and get on the scene. Prompter's bell is ringing orchestra in, curtain will soon go up. It is now after one o'clock." To this Maurice promptly replies, " Then get to your dressing-room ! " Microbe moves to the door. Here he turns and says, " I am to insult Mademoiselle ? " " Certainly ! " " I am to kiss her ! Perhaps' Louise will not consider that an insult ?" returns the dandy detective, with a self- approving grin. "You are only to pretend to kiss her," says Maurice suddenly and perhaps sternly. For this jumping-jack-of- the-boulevards' grimaces annoy him the affair is so serious. " Ah ! only to pretend to kiss her. What -a cruel dis- appointment for a young girl ! What a wound to her van- ity ! I look very handsome in my Mabille suit. Louise will certainly consider that an awful insult. Your game is sure, Monsieur de Verney. She will love you when you THAT FRENCHMAN ! 45 beat me." And Microbe's laugh can be heard as he skips down the stairs. Maurice laughs also, but in a less hearty tone, at this conceit of his assistant. Then he mutters, " I must leave this Hermann matter to ' Regnier, Jolly & Co.' till to-night. I wonder if I can win this game by hearts. I'll have to play my cards quickly, whatever they are." With this he steps into his chamber, rings and orders his phaeton at the door in half an hour ; then proceeds to achieve one of those tremendous toilets the beaus of the boulevards in those days were guilty of. Looking at himself in the glass, he wonders if he has not a little overdone his work. "All the same," he remarks, " I look useless enough to please most women. I wonder if I shall be attractive enough to conquer this one. According to Microbe, she does not look with favor on petites crtvts. Will a swell & la Rue St. Honort please mademoiselle better ? " A moment after, his equipage is announced by Fran- cois. He steps down into the quiet Rue d'Hautville where it is waiting for him. Perfect in the style of that time, it would nearly resemble a mail phaeton of to-day. It is drawn by a dashing pair of chestnuts, a little too spirited, perhaps, for any but a first-rate whip to drive, but a perfect match as to color, style, action and speed. He steps in, the tiny groom leaves the heads of the horses and takes a flying leap to his rumble behind, and Maurice de Verney that bright spring day drives, almost laughingly, away to the Bois de Boulogne to meet HIS MEPHISTOPHELES IN PETTICOATS. CHAPTER V. HIDE AND SEEK. MAURICE'S chestnuts bowl him along the main boule- vards. Here the tremendous traffic of the great city keeps him engaged in guiding his team through the mass of vehicles and pedestrians with which the streets are crowded. In the Montmartre he manages, however, to catch a 46 THAT FRENCHMAN ! glimpse of Monsieur Regnier, and sees that faithful officer at his post near the flower kiosk. Of Hermann and his shadowing Jolly he sees nothing, and so, after passing through the Rue Royale, comes to the Champs Elysees, that long avenue of matchless pavement, bright- ened by green trees and beautiful parterres of flowers, which begins gloriously at the Place de la Concorde and ends triumphantly at the Arc de Triomphe. From this can be seen many of the new boulevards and avenues, outlined by those magnificent detached hotels of that young quarter of the city, exemplifying the fresh life and beauty of the new Paris just made from the ugly old town of monarchical France, whose narrow and winding streets have become broad and straight boulevards, whose foul-smelling gutters have been replaced by under-ground sewerage, and whose mediaeval filth, discomfort and plague have been changed to modern cleanliness, convenience and health. For Baron Haussmann has just waved that modern magician's wand, capital and labor, and trans- formed the most unsightly, pestilentious, and disreputa- ble town of the old regime into the most beautiful, airy, and comfortable city of the modern world the Paris that men travel half round the earth to see, that women dream about, and angels sigh over ! The scene before him is bright with the glory of a Paris April sun. The Champs Elysees is that of 1868 the foot-paths are crowded with workingmen and naughty grisettes, who sometimes look enviously at the crowded drive, made more naughty by Mesdemoiselles Seraphin de Jockey Club, of the Rue de Helder, and Cora Rubie, of the Quartier Breda, whose turn-outs, in grooms, liveries, and horse-flesh, put to shame Madame la Marechale Sebastopol's, of the Rue St. Honor, and La Princesse de Fleur-de-lis, of the Faubourg St. Germain. All this gay, happy, noisy, and very Frenchy scene is unnoticed by de Verney, he is so engrossed by his thoughts. He swings his team into the Avenue de 1'Imperatrice, now called that of the Bois de Boulogne, passing a vic- toria which contains two ladies. One of them suddenly says : " Who is she ? " The other replies : " What do you mean ? " " Why, the woman that occupies Le Chevalier de Ver- THAT FRENCHMAN ! 47 ney's brain to the exclusion of everything else this after- noon. He did not return my bow ! " mutters La Com- tesse de Merrincourt with a little moue. " Oh, Maurice has ambitions," laughs her friend La Baronne de Brissac. . " All the same, he is very handsome, and I hope he'll come to Madame de Cavagnac's soiree this evening. I am going to appear in her tableaux. I shall be Venus in the ' Judgment of Paris ! ' and I think I could drive ambition out of his handsome head ! " " Ah ! I presume your costume will be nothing, if not enchanting ! " giggles Madame la Baronne. " It will be both ! " returns Sophie de Merrincourt, proudly, for she is one of the great beauties of the day. Then, after a pause, she mutters, " If he were only Paris ; he would be almost as beautiful as the masked wrestler." " Oh ! L'homme masque. Is he not magnificent ? " " What limbs ! What physique ! " cries the other. " Ah ! you too admire that sybarite of the arena ! " " Enough to give my head to know who he is ! " And the two ladies pass on their way, wildly discussing the most unique sensation of that ephemeral epoch. Maurice by this time has reached the Bois de Boulogne. The Park is beautiful this day, with green trees and grasses, and wild-flowers just beginning to bloom. The crowd here is not so great, as Le Chevalier, entering at the Porte Dauphin, leaves the popular drive to the Lakes to his left, and makes straight for the entrance to the Jardin d'Acclimatation, near the Sablons gate. Here he finds the crowd greater again, and more juve- nile. Boy and girl aristocrats are being deposited from their equipages ; boy and girl bourgeois are coming on foot from the railway station at Maillot and the horse-cars ; or more directly by omnibuses, to see the animals of this French Zoo. They make the scene wonderfully bright and brilliant. Silks and laces are on the girls ; velvets and laces on the boys for they are French children and don't spoil their clothes like English ones ; and, in their play, don't make one-half the noise of Anglo-Saxon childhood ; though they make up for lost time when they grow older. As Maurice alights and gazes at this, he sees, at the entrance of the garden, a Parisian workman, trying to ap- 48 THAT FRENCHMAN ! pear interested in the gambols of some children near him, but still with his eyes upon everything passing in or out. The fellow gives him a knowing glance, and he recognizes him as one of the detective officers he has placed on guard over the safety of the prince. So far his orders have been obeyed. He will see if the others are equally alert. He hastily forces his way through the crowd to all the entrances of the garden. At each of them, in some guise familiar to the Parisians of that day, is one of his emissaries on watch. To do this he is compelled to go nearly to the Porte de Neuilly. Consequently, before he returns to the main entrance he has disposed of about fifteen minutes. It is now two o'clock, and as yet he has not placed his eyes upon the young lady he is so anxious to see. He hardly thinks she has yet arrived, it is so early. If she comes from Passy, she will undoubtedly pass in by the main entrance, so he posts himself near it and looks for his fair conspirator for he has now come to regard the flower-girl of the Jardin d'Acclimatation in that light. Absorbed with this matter, his eyes note only females, till suddenly he hears : " By Jove ! you're on hand also, Maurice looking very hard for her ? Eh, old fellow ? " " What do you mean, de Frontinac ? " says the chevalier, bowing to a couple of young men who, dressed in the extreme of fashion, are just coming from the Porte de Sablons and crossing the little bridge over the brook that, further in the garden, makes the pond in which the ducks and swans play also, the children, when the gen- darmes don't see them. One of them has spoken to him. " Oh ! that you've scented the perfume of la belle Louise's flowers ! " laughs de Frontinac. " We're on the same errand. But permit me to present Monsieur Hig- gins. You may have met him in Mexico. He comes from across the Atlantic. Le Chevalier de Verney, Monsieur Higgins." "You've got rather good eyes if you've seen me in Mexico," remarks Higgins, who would be a representa- tive Yankee, had he not been washed out and partially obliterated by absinthe during the few months he has been in Paris. " I've never been nearer to that country than Boston Common. I've only seen Mexico from Harvard THAT FRENCHMAN ! 49 observatory. It's about three thousand miles, I believe ; but our telescopes beat the world. George ! I wish I had one now. " Here the gentleman stops to rub his eye-glasses, as a very pretty woman has just passed him. " De Frontinac's knowledge of geography is small," remarks Maurice sarcastically. " He hasn't had the advantages of your common-school system, Monsieur Higgins." " Louise is not here," interrupts the American, who has been persistently and carefully gazing into the garden during this conversation. " Oh ! She'll turn up soon she's certain to come, for the day is so fine the Prince Imperial is sure to be on hand and give her a louts for a rose." " Yes, and precious little chance we have when royalty's around. I believe the ' hope of France ' is mashed on her," murmurs Higgins. " Let's go to the Kiosques des Concerts I hear the band playing now she'll probably be there ! " " Come on, Maurice," cries de Frontinac, and the three young men stroll into the beautiful grounds. Crossing another rustic bridge over the little stream, filled with aquatic plants, unheeding the jabber of the monkeys, they turn away to their left and make for the music of the band. " Hold up a minute," cries de Frontinac to Maurice. " You walk too fast for me to ask questions. When does the masked wrestler make his next appearance ? " " How should I know ? " says de Verney, suddenly stopping, chewing his mustache, and gazing his friend in the eye. " Well, you needn't be huffy about the question, old fellow," mutters the other ; " I asked you once the same thing, and you struck it to the very day : February isth. I can show you the posters for it." "One fortunate guess does not make me a fortune- teller," laughs de Verney. " Why did you want to know ? " " It's on my account," remarks Higgins. " There are some girls from New York whose mother has said No, with a very big N, to Le Mabille ; and we've compro- mised on the masked wrestler. They've put off a trip to 50 THAT FRENCHMAN ! Italy on account of him. They're too pretty to disap- point. It's such an awful rush for tickets, so, if you could give us a hint, we might be ahead of time. Those girls are simply crazy to go I've told 'em he's the great- est physical sight on earth." " Of course he is ! You don't have any such artists de force in America," says de Frontinac, bubbling over with French pride. " No a not at present. We've a baseball club and one or two prize-fighters nothing to brag of. You see, we're too intellectual ; we develop the mind in Boston at the expense of the muscle. We'll never get there ! " says this young New-Englander of 1868 quite sadly; for, not being a prophet, he cannot see the crown of glory the mighty Sullivan of later days is to bring to his beloved modern Athens. After a moment's philosophical and meditative unhappiness at the idea, he brightens up, however, and mutters half dreamily, " I wonder who the masked wrestler is, anyway ? " " That's what all Paris has guessed and still guesses," interjects de Frontinac. " Half the belles of the Rue St. Honore and the Tuileries would give everything but their beauty for his address to send him a billet-doux:' " But they can't find it," mutters Maurice under his breath. Then he pauses suddenly and says, " Ah ! ah ! " for he is looking at the most beautiful thing he has yet seen in the world. " By Jove ! There she is ! Look at her hair ! " mur- murs Higgins. " Louise ! more stunning than ever ! " echoes de Fron- tinac. " Come and buy a flower from her, Maurice. For that, you only need the introduction a five-franc piece will give you." Then the two young men hurry on, and elbow their way through the press, for there is always a little crowd about her, buying posies from her fair hands, and trying by double prices to purchase from her lips kindly words or her eyes sweet glances boys as well as men but no girls nor women. She seems a loadstone for everything masculine perhaps to repel, certainly not to attract, everything feminine. As for de Verney, he simply stands and gazes at her for a minute or so, though his mind notes these facts. Then THAT FRENCHMAN ! 51 he looks for a hundred seconds or so more, and thinks very hard ; next, as if it were a difficult task to tear him- self away from what he sees, resolutely turns his back upon Louise, the flower-girl of the Jardin d'Acclimata- tion, strides rapidly to the gate, calls his phaeton, gives his horses their heads, and flies home as fast as they can draw him, scarcely noticing the Prince Imperial as he passes him in the Champs Elysees driving for the Bois, and followed at a little distance by young Microbe and another officier de sfircte, who are taking good care of that royal youth this afternoon. Arriving at the Rue d'Hautville, Maurice bolts up to his apartments and then, as rapidly as possible, makes an entirely new toilet, coming down-stairs again in modest dark clothes that show his graceful athletic figure to superb advantage, and give him the appearance of being perfectly unpre- tentious, though elegant and gentlemanly to the tips of his nails. He is no longer the beau of the boulevards ; for, in the three minutes he has looked at Louise the flower- girl, he has made up his mind that no beau of the boule- vards will ever charm the intellect, or win the admiration or love of such a woman. For this is the picture he saw, and that which is still in his head, as he drives rapidly back, anxious to see it again: A girl's face, perhaps sixteen, perhaps eighteen, per- haps twenty. Its eyes so dark they would be gloomy were they not full of an enthusiasm which makes them beam, and an excitement that makes them flash with a fire perhaps as holy as that of a Roman vestal, perchance as cruel as that of some priestess of the Indian Goddess of Death. Which ? Maurice cannot as yet determine ; he only knows that it is beautiful. Its brow would be classic as that of a Greek statue, had it not more intellect than ancient art usually gave to woman. Its mouth is also contradictory, the lower lip indicating passion, the upper one the firmness to repress it; the cheeks modestly blush- ing, the nose haughty. A mass of contradictions the whole bewilderingly beautiful ! Is it a good face or a bad one ? On this de Verney meditates. " Her hair is blonde," he finally mutters to himself ; " Heaven grant it may be dyed in the fashion of 52 THAT FRENCHMAN ! this day's craze for yellow hair, for, if it is natural WHEUGH ! " Here he gives a long whistle, then continues : " ' Beware of serpents and natural blondes whose eyes have sparks in them ! ' Will her beauty make me forget this maxim ? " Then he gives a little laugh, which changes into a start, and suddenly mutters, " A WOMAN LIKE THE ONE I'VE SEEN HAS THE RESOLUTION TO KILL THE PRINCE WITH HER OWN HAND," and drives faster than ever. After a little consideration, however, he casts away any idea of immediate danger to his charge ; the plot, whatever it be, is evidently not yet ripe for action. He now gives a glance at his surroundings. He has come back at a speed that has been horrifying to the sergents de ville passed on his way. He has been once warned on the Champs Elysees, and twice cautioned on the Avenue de I'lmperatrice, and, had he not been very well known, would doubtless have been arrested ; for he has paid no attention to the polite remonstrances of these guardians of the peace. Such has been his speed that he has made his trip to the Rue d'Hautville and back, together with change of raiment, in an hour and a half. He drives into the crowd at the entrance of the Jardin d'Acclimatation, saluting Le deux Aquardo, and, returning the kindly bow of Rossini (who is now enjoying the last songs of the spring birds that master of melody shall hear on earth \ looks at his watch, and is relieved to see that it indicates only twenty-five minutes to four. The throng is much greater than when he left. There are many more ladies, who have driven out in state to see their children enjoy the fluttering of the pigeons in their dove-cot, ride in the carriages drawn by ostriches, or laugh at the grotesque comcdic humaine the mon- keys and apes go through ad nauseam in their commo- dious quarters. Four in five of these ladies of fashion have yellow heads, following the craze introduced by the cocottes of Quartier Breda ; all of whom are at this time blondes, natural or unnatural. Most of them have discarded crinoline for the pannier costumes that Monsieur Worth has just introduced to delight women and astonish mankind. As was the custom of that day, most of these are of flashing Bismarck browns, THAT FRENCHMAN ! 53 Solferino reds, or Pompadour greens, that charm the paraquets of the garden who imagine other birds of brilliant plumage have come to visit them, and chatter at their gorgeous guests, as if expecting reply. Passing through this brilliant crowd, and only returning the bow Madame de Pourtales makes him and the smile and word that the beautiful Mademoiselle de Walewska gives him, Maurice makes straight for the sound of the band that is playing La Mandolinata, which is just becoming the popular tune of the day for he imagines there will be the Prince and there the flower-girl. But neither Prince nor flower-girl is there. In looking about for them, he passes one of the en- trances to the garden and notes that the officer on guard there has disappeared. A hasty examination of the other gates shows that this is the case at all of them. It flashes across Maurice that there is a reason for this. The Prince has left the garden and the officers, to better watch over him, have followed ! Where have they gone ? This question is soon answered by young Microbe. This worthy is now dressed as only a petite crfoe, pure, simple, and unredeemed, can be. He has lavender trousers that fit him like gloves, save upon the boots, over which they are spread out with the amplitude a Spanish vaquero gives to his leather leggins, only show- ing the tips of the toes of his little patent leathers. A very low-cut vest of embossed velvet exhibits an immen- sity of white shirt-bosom, with a small ruffle and large diamond of pasty splendor. This shirt is of the decollete description, and with its low-rolling, turned-down collar and loosely tied crimson cravat displays as much of bare neck as many modest women do in evening dress. This neck is by no means handsome, being yellow and skinny, but Microbe seems to be rather proud of it. A bur- nished stove-pipe hat and rather sloppy-looking frock- coat, together with a pair of lilac gloves which emit the odor of benzine, showing them to have been hastily cleaned, together with some finger-rings he wears as adornments to a very brazen-looking watch-chain, com- plete his elegant appearance. He leaves two ladies of very dashing style and brill- iant toilet, and strolls past Maurice, giving him a wink. 54 THAT FRENCHMAN ! Then he wanders to a quiet nook behind the monkey- house, where de Verney joins him. Microbe comes to business at once. He says : " I beckoned you here to take no chances of Louise seeing us together." " Where is she ? " whispers Maurice eagerly. " The Prince and his party he has two other boys, besides his tutor, with him have gone to play just outside the garden in the Bois, near the road to the Madrid. He insisted on Louise accompanying them. She is giving them prizes of flowers. I am gradually making that young lady detest me. When I insult her and you appear to beat me, she will hate me so cordially that she'll love you for it. But you must be careful and not damage my clothes." Here he looks at his toilet, and murmurs approvingly : "I am with ladies, and have on my Mabille suit." " Yes, I've noticed that," remarks Maurice dryly. " Those girls are rather nice, aren't they ? " says Microbe enthusiastically. " That stout one is Theresa, who is singing Paris crazy at the Alcazar." "Yes, I know," interrupts de Verney, who has seen this celebrity a dozen times. " And the other is Mademoiselle Zara de Millepieds, the great successor to the grand Rigolboshe at the Ma- bille. I dance a cavalier seul in the same quadrille with her next Sunday night. Like to be introduced ? " " Not now," says Maurice sharply. " No ; of course not. I'm not going to be seen with you to-day," replies Microbe with a little wink. "But at the Mabille Sunday." He has no time to say more, for the chevalier cuts in again : " What game was the Prince playing with his friends for which Louise gives prizes ? " The answer startles him : " Hide and seek ! And Louise presents flowers to the one who hides the longest! " HIDE AND SEEK! THE GAME MENTIONED IN THE CIPHER. WHAT MIGHT BE DONE TO THE PRINCE WHEN CONCEALED FROM HIS COM- PANIONS ? As this thought comes to de Verney, he hurriedly asks, " Does Louise hide with them ? " THAT FRENCHMAN ! 55 " Oh, no ! she remains with the tutor and the others. She does not seem interested save in selling flowers to passers-by. I've bought three roses already and made her more enraged at every purchase." " Where are the officers ? " " In hiding, about the thickets near the Prince, to see that no one but his playmates approach him." " Very well," says Maurice, " you will not forget my instructions for this afternoon, Monsieur Microbe." " Certainly not." " Now I'll go and see what I can make out of this game of hide and seek," mutters de Verney, and he strides toward the main entrance to the Jardin d'Acclima- tation, that will let him out near the road to the Madrid, at this time one of the popular resorts of the park. CHAPTER VI. THE FATE OF THE MABILLE SUIT. TURNING sharply to his right from the Jardin d'Accli- matation, Maurice has hardly proceeded a couple of hun- dred yards when he sees the imperial liveries upon a carriage drawn up alongside the road to the Madrid. There are several other private carriages standing near, the occupants of them having stopped to look at the heir of France, throwing off his dignity and becoming for a short happy hour or two only a boy. Quite a little crowd of pedestrians have been attracted to the place, most of these keeping at a respectful dis- tance ; though a few, whose positions, titles, or intimacy at court have given them a personal acquaintance with the Prince, have practically joined the imperial party. Among these Maurice places himself ; for though he does not wish Louise to imagine him very closely connected with the governing power of France, still he is desperately anxious to accurately observe both the bear- ing and actions of the flower-girl, and she stands very near the Prince Imperial's tutor, who is watching the game in a short-sighted and perfunctory manner through a pair of spectacles. 56 THAT FRENCHMAN ! The Prince and his companions are now in hiding, one of them, his particular friend, the boy Conneau, is the seeking party, and is wandering through the thickets and trees, with which the slightly rising ground is studded, in pursuit of the others. The prince is not here to recognize him, and Maurice can now make his observations of Louise Tourney without her learning he is acquainted with the royal prey he imagines she is pursuing. He strolls through the group and leisurely asks her for a boutonniere. She gracefully pins it in his coat, but as she does so, a pair of feverish eyes look into his and stagger him. Eyes that have not the hope of youth nor the calmness of age only the anxiety of some great strain upon the mind, something that keeps her nervous system at a constant unrelaxing tension, that makes it like the (7-string of a highly-tuned violin a breeze blowing against it, it will cry out ; another turn of the key and it will snap asunder. He tries to think where he has seen such eyes before. She says " Thank you ! " for his five-franc piece. It is the first time he has heard her speak, and it is a sensation. Her voice is low and sweet, but how determined. When age has taken away its sweetness, it may be hard. He steps back and enters into conversation with the Prince's tutor. This gentleman knows him very well by sight, and is, with the vanity peculiar to weak minds, de- lighted to be addressed by so distinguished a gentleman as Monsieur de Verney. While Maurice is talking to him, and judging how much aid he can hope for, in case of necessity, from the tutor, his eyes are following the flower-girl as she trips from one person to another disposing of her pretty wares, which now seem to be nearly exhausted. Her dress is something like a peasant's, not of prim, staid Normandy nor Brittany, he is glad to notice, but of some more southern clime perhaps from the sunny slopes of the Pyrenees. The whole effect, though not rich, is very graceful and softly pretty, and the dress is some light cambric that becomes the girlish figure that is hardly as yet developed, for the short skirts show a foot and ankle that suit the costume ; they are small enough and well-shaped enough to have come even from Cordova or Seville. THAT FRENCHMAN ! ^7 But, while selling flowers or replying to some of the remarks that a few of the ladies make to her, her eyes always have the same fevered, excited look ; though, curi- ously enough, Maurice thinks the girl never seems to notice anything pertaining to the Prince's game she simply attends to her business, which is quite a lucrative one. A few moments after Maurice's arrival, Monsieur Microbe comes along, still accompanied by the two ladies he had by his side when first seen. This young gentleman nonchalantly insinuates himself into the court circle, and begs to trouble Miss Louise for a floweret. The girl has seen him coming. De Verney can tell, from the way her eyes gleam, that she already detests her customer. She bristles up ready for com- bat. At seeing her attitude, Monsieur Microbe astonishes her : he takes his flower, pays her, bows humbly, and leaves her without a word. A moment after, as if struck by a sudden thought, he steps back to her and says a few words. The girl's cheeks suddenly pale. If anything could crush young Microbe, her glance would ; but he treads jauntily back to his companions, while she gazes at him with an evil eye. Maurice has been unable to catch what Microbe has said to Louise, but, being near the ladies accompanying that gentleman, he overhears their conversation. " What did you say to that child to put her in such a rage, my Romeo of the can-can ? See ! Mademoiselle has torn up one of her roses in her temper ! " giggles La Theresa. " Oh ! " replies Microbe, " I simply told her that I had heard that she sang under the nom de theatre of Theresa, and that I was going to the Alcazar to-night. I would be in the gallery, and she could know me by my feet hanging over." " Ah ! poor thing ! You hurt her feelings ; you took her for La Theresa ! " cries La Millepieds, laughing. At which the fascinating Theresa gives her a savage glance. Five minutes after this, Microbe strolls back to the flower-girl again. She has not noticed his coming. He says : " I beg your pardon for mistaking you, made- 58 THAT FRENCHMAN ! moiselle, for La Theresa, who has charmed Paris by her singing at the Alcazar." The girl does not answer a word to this, but turns her head away. " Mademoiselle, I ask your pardon humbly," murmurs Microbe with a grin. " I know how it wounds one great artist to be mistaken for another. I have just learned that you are the celebrated La Millepieds. This evening I go to Le Mabille. I shall dance myself ; you may recognize me by my rose Vive le can-can ! " Here it is well Mon- sieur Microbe skips away, for the girl might have at- tacked him with her hands and nails, and the crowd would probably have given the young man an impromptu bath in the stream that was conveniently near ; for Louise, the flower-girl, was very popular with the habitues of the Bois de Boulogne. Maurice himself, though not hearing this conversation, catches a glimpse of Louise's face, and sets his teeth and clinches his hands as he sees how well his assistant actor is playing his part of heavy villain, though the cue for his rdle of romantic hero has not as yet come. He feels ashamed of himself for the plot he has invented for gain- ing this girl's acquaintance, but at the same moment is strong enough to say that the game must be played out to the end, for he has just heard some rather common- place but ominous information from the tutor, and a little thing now occurs that makes his suspicions of the flower- girl very near to certainties. Maurice has not conversed with the tutor three minutes before he finds he is just the man to be of no use to himself or any one else in an emergency. This gentleman has been selected for his important post on account of his knowledge of books, not men ; and, though very well calculated to instruct his royal charge in Latin, Greek, mathematics and philosophy, is one of those highly theoretical creatures who are never practical. He informs Maurice that he has reported to the Em- peror how much the Prince was pleased with the beauty and accomplishments of this flower-girl. The Emperor had said : " At thirteen the heart is not dangerous. If my son two years from now looks at a woman, let me know at once, but don't say anything about it to Louis." " I myself think the child is charming," murmurs this THAT FRENCHMAN ! 59 man of books ; " she is so intelligent for her years, and so well read for one in her station in life." " Then you've had some conversation with her ? " remarks Maurice. " Oh, often ! " " Often ? You have known her long ? " " About three weeks ! She presented the Prince with a beautiful bouquet on his Easter drive in the Bois, and he took an immediate fancy to her. Consequently I have often, while his highness is playing, given Miss Louise good advice she is so innocent, and Paris is, I am in- formed, considered wicked." " Ah ! What advice did you give ? " " Well ! " remarks the tutor with a smile, " I warned the young lady to beware of young gentlemen of fashion like you, Monsieur de Verney ! " " And Louise said ? " asks Maurice rather eagerly. " Louise said," continues Mr. Bookworm, " that gen- tlemen like me were much more dangerous. Intellect always attracted her. She is very talented." " Talented enough to twist you round her pretty little finger," thinks Maurice, for the tutor seems to swell with vanity as he relates his intellectual conquest. " She pinned this bud in my button-hole. It is a yellow rose. Do you think she can be jealous of me ? You know the language of flowers, Monsieur de Ver- ney ? " babbles the tutor. " I hope you've not given the poor girl cause," says Maurice dryly, favoring him with a wink. At which flattery the other sniggles and calls him a wit, and opens his heart to him and tells him everything he knows, which in the chevalier's accurate mind assumes this condensed form : The intimacy between the Prince and the flower-girl has gradually become closer, until now the boy insists on seeing and buying flowers from her every time he drives in the Bois, which is about three times a week, generally Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays, but not always. As, for instance, this Tuesday, the weather being fine, advantage has been taken of this for a drive. For the last week the Prince has generally brought some of his friends with him, as he has fallen in love with the English game of hide and seek, that he and his friends usually 60 THAT FRENCHMAN ! play in this spot. That the tutor is not sure, but rather thinks that the game was suggested by Louise. Anyway, she takes a great interest in it, and gives a prize of flowers to the boy who is not found, WHICH THE PRINCE GENERALLY WINS. He has some hiding-place in which no one has as yet discovered him. " By George ! " says Maurice, suddenly. " How long has he been hiding now ? " " About half an hour. It is perfectly safe here. The boy couldn't get lost in this park crowded with people." " Isn't he lost now ? " whispers de Verney. " That boy Conneau has found every one of the party but the Prince. Do you think you could discover him in those thickets if a boy could not ? " " Of course ; but that's part of the game," remarks the tutor, complaisantly. " However, you see he is coming in now." For young Conneau has by this time given the search up, and has yelled out this fact till the Prince has heard it and come out of hiding. Maurice looks at the flower-girl. She is still selling flowers, but, as the two boys run down the hill to her, she turns to them, cries " Void ! " and waves a great bunch of white roses that she has kept reserved for the prize, in the bottom of her basket. " Perhaps she'd better not learn that the Prince knows me," thinks de Verney, moving to the rear of the little crowd, but still where he can closely observe Louise. The girl stands like a fair picture of spring, holding out the flowers in one hand, and beckoning the two youths to her with the other white member. As they approach her, the boys slacken their pace, and she bestows the prize saying, " Your highness always wins." " Yes, we know the place, don't we, Mademoiselle Louise ! " cries the royal boy, the flush of triumph, youth and happiness upon his face. Then he bows to her, little gentleman that he is, and says, "Mille remerciements, mademoiselle." And as the boy gives her a gracious smile and smells his roses, Maurice can see the flower-girl's lips quiver. Her hand trembles as she gives him his prize, and there are tears in her eyes tears of pity. Then suddenly the THAT FRENCHMAN ! 6l face changes into her eyes comes unconquerable reso- lution. They flame and Hash, not as an animal at its prey, but like the eyes he has seen before somewhere 2 the eyes he suddenly remembers they are those