I
THE COMRADES' TRYST
"A bowl of claret, Father Korn."
The raucous voice of big Ernestine rose above the hubbub in thesmoke-begrimed tavern.
"Some claret, and let it be good," repeated the drab, a big, fair damselwith puckered eyes and features worn by dissipation.
Father Korn had heard the first time, but he was in no hurry to complywith the order.
He was a bald, whiskered giant, and at the moment was busily engaged inswilling dirty glasses in a sink filled with tepid water.
This tavern, "The Comrades' Tryst," had two rooms, each with itsseparate exit. Mme. Korn presided over the first in which food and drinkwere served. By passing through the door at the far end, and crossingthe inner courtyard of the large seven-story building, the second "den"was reached--a low and ill-lit room facing the Rue de la Charbonniere,a street famed in the district for its bad reputation.
At a third summons, Father Korn, who had sized up the girl and the crowdshe was with, growled:
"It'll be two moons; hand over the stuff first."
Big Ernestine rose, and pushing her way to him, began a long argument.When she stopped to draw a breath, Korn interposed:
"It's no use trying that game. I said two francs and two francs it is."
"All right, I won't argue with a brute like you," replied the girl."Everyone knows that you and Mother Korn are Germans, dirty Prussians."
The innkeeper smiled quietly and went on washing his glasses.
Big Ernestine glanced around the room. She knew the crowd and quicklydecided that the cash would not be forthcoming.
For a moment she thought of tackling old Mother Toulouche, ensconced inthe doorway with her display of portugals and snails, but dameToulouche, snuggled in her old shawl, was fast asleep.
Suddenly from a corner of the tavern, a weary voice cried withauthority:
"Go ahead, Korn, I'll stand treat."
It was the Sapper who had spoken.
A man of fifty who owed his nickname to the current report that he hadspent twenty years in Africa, both as a soldier and a convict.
While Ernestine and her friends hastened to his table, the Sapper'scompanion, a heavily built man, rose carelessly and slouched off to joinanother group, muttering:
"I'm too near the window here."
"It's Nonet," explained the Sapper to Ernestine. "He's home from NewCaledonia, and he doesn't care to show himself much just now."
The girl nodded, and pointing to one of her companions, becameconfidential. "Look at poor Mimile, here. He's just out of quod and hasto start right off to do his service. Pretty tough."
The Sapper became very interested in the conversation. Meanwhile Nonet,as he crossed the tap-room, had stopped a few moments before a prettygirl who was evidently expecting some one.
"Waiting again for the Square, eh, Josephine?" Nonet inquired.
The girl, whose big blue eyes contrasted strikingly with her jet blackhair, replied:
"Why not? Loupart doesn't think of quitting me that I know of."
"Well, when he does let me know," Nonet suggested smilingly.
Josephine shrugged her shoulders contemptuously, and, glancing at theclock above the bar, rose suddenly and left the tap-room.
She went rapidly down the Rue Charbonniere and along the boulevard, inthe direction of the Barbes Metropolitan Station. On reaching the levelof the Boulevard Magenta, she slackened and walked along the right-handpavement toward the centre of Paris.
"My little Jojo!"
The girl who, after leaving the tavern, had assumed a quiet and modestair, now came face to face with a stout gentleman with a jovial face andone gleaming eye, the other eye being permanently closed. He wore abeard turning grey and his derby hat and light cane placed him asbelonging to the middle class.
"How late you are, my adored Jojo," he murmured tenderly. "That accursedworkshop been keeping you again after hours?"
The mistress of Loupart checked a smile.
"That's it!" she replied, "the workshop, M. Martialle."
The man addressed made a warning gesture.
"Don't mention my name here; I'm almost home." He pulled out his watch."Too bad; I'll have to go in or my wife will kick up a row. Let's see,this is Tuesday; well, Saturday I'm off to Burgundy on my usualhalf-monthly trip. Meet me at the Lyons station, platform No. 2,Marseilles express. We won't be back till Monday. A delightful week-endof love-making with my darling who at last consents.... What's that!"
The stout man broke off his impassioned harangue. A beggar, emergingfrom the darkness, importuned him:
"Have pity on me, kind sir."
"Give him something," urged Josephine.
The middle-aged lover complied and tenderly drew away the pretty girl,repeating carefully the details of the assignation:
"Lyons Station; a quarter past eight. The train leaves at twenty tonine."
Then suddenly dropping Josephine's arm:
"Now, sweetheart, you'd better hurry home to your good mother, andremember Saturday."
The outline of the portly personage faded into the night. Loupart'smistress shrugged her shoulders, turned, and made her way back to the"Tryst," where her place had been kept for her.
At the back of the tavern, the group which Nonet had joined werediscussing strange doings. "The Bear," head of the band of the Cyphers,had just returned from the courthouse. He brought the latest news.Riboneau had been given ten years, but was going to try for a reducedsentence.
The talk suddenly dropped. A hubbub arose outside, a dull roar whichwaxed louder and louder. The sound of hurrying footsteps mingled withshrill cries and oaths. Doors in the street slammed. A few shots werefired, followed by a pause, and then the stampede began again.
Father Korn, deserting his bar, warily planted himself at the entry tohis establishment, his hand on the latch of the door. He stood ready tobar entrance to any who might try to press in.
"The raid," he warned in a low tone.
His customers, glad to feel themselves in safety, followed thevicissitudes of what to them was almost a daily occurrence.
First came the frenzied rush of the "street walkers," deserted by theirsinister protectors and fleeing madly in search of shelter in terror ofthe lock-up. Behind the shrieking herd the constables, in close ranks,swept and cleared the street, leaving no corner, no court, no door thatremained ajar unsearched. Then the whirl swept away, the noise dieddown, and the street resumed its normal aspect: drab, weird andalarming.
Father Korn laughed. "All they've bagged is Bonzville!" he cried, andthe customers responded to his merriment. The police had been fooledagain. Bonzville was a harmless old tramp, who got himself "jugged"every winter on purpose to lay up for repairs.
The passage of the "driver" had caused enough stir in the tap-room todistract attention from the entry at the back of a stoutly built manwith a bestial face, known by the title of "The Cooper."
Swiftly he passed to the Beard's table, and, taking the latter aside,began:
"The big job is fixed for the end of the week. On my way back from thestation I saw Josephine palavering with the swell customer...."
Suddenly the Beard stopped him short.
The general attention had become fixed on the street entrance to thetap-room. The door had opened with a bang and Loupart, alias "TheSquare," the popular lover of the pretty Josephine, came on the scene,his eyes gleaming, his lips smiling under his upturned moustache.
Then there broke out cries of stupefaction. Loupart was between twopolicemen, who had stopped short in the doorway.
The Square turned to them: "Thank you, gentlemen," he said in his mosturbane tone. "I am very grateful to you for having seen me this far. Iam quite safe now. Let me offer you a drink to the health of authority!"
However, the two policemen did not dare to enter the tavern, so theybriefly declined and made off. Josephine had risen, and Loupart, afterpressing a tender kiss upon her lips, turned to the company.
; "That feazes you, eh! I was just heading this way when I ran into thedrive. As I'm a peaceful citizen, I got hold of two cops and begged themto see me safely home. They thought I was really scared."
There was a burst of general laughter. No one could bluff the policelike the Square.
Loupart turned to Josephine: "How are things going, ducky?"
The girl repeated in a low tone to her lover her recent talk with M.Martialle.
Loupart nodded approvingly, but grumbled when he found the meeting wasfixed for Saturday.
"Hang the fellow! Must hustle with all the jobs on hand this week.Anyway, we won't let this one slip by. Plenty of shiners, eh,Josephine?"
"You bet. He carries the stuff to his partners every fortnight."
"That's first rate, but in the meantime there's something doingto-night. Here, kiddy, take a pen and scratch off a letter for me."
The Square dictated in a low voice:
"Sir, I am only a poor girl, but I've some feeling and honesty and Ihate to see wrong done around me. Believe me, you'd better keep an eyeopen on some one pretty close to me. Maybe the police have already toldyou I am the mistress of Loupart, alias the Square. I'm not denying it;in fact, I'm proud of it. Well, I swear to you that this Loupart isgoing to try a dirty game."
Josephine stopped writing.
"Look here, what are you at?"
"Scribble, and don't bother yourself. This doesn't concern you," repliedLoupart drily.
Josephine waited, docile and ready, but the Square's attention was nowfocussed upon Ernestine, her young man and the generous Sapper.
"Yes," Ernestine was explaining to Mimile while the Sapper noddedapprovingly, "the Beard is, as you might say, the head of the band ofCyphers, next to Loupart, of course. To belong to the Beard's gangyou've got to have done up at least one guy. Then you get your Number 1.Your figure increases according to the number of deaders you have toyour credit."
"So then," inquired Mimile, with eager curiosity, "Riboneau, who hasjust been sentenced, is called number 'seven' because ..."
"Because," added the Sapper in his serious voice, "because he has killedoff seven."
In a few curt questions the Square posted himself as to young Mimile,who had impressed him favourably.
Josephine turned to Loupart: "What else am I to put in the letter? Whyare you stopping?"
For answer, the Square suddenly sprang to his feet, seized a half-emptybottle and flung it on the floor, where it broke. This act of violencesent the company scattering, and Loupart roared out:
"It's on account of spies that I'm stopping! By God! When are we goingto see their finish? And besides," he added, staring hard at Ernestine,"I've had enough of all this nonsense; better clear out of here orthere'll be trouble."
Cunningly, with bloodshot eyes, her fists clenched in fury, but humblysubmissive, the girl made ready to comply. She knew the Square wasmaster, and there was no use standing out against his will.
The Sapper himself, growling, picked up his change, little disposed tohave a row, and beckoning to his comrade, Nonet, effected a humble exitunder cover of the girl Ernestine.
Loupart's arm fell upon the shoulder of Mimile, who alone seemed to defyJosephine's formidable lover.
"Hold on, young 'un," ordered Loupart. "You seem to have some nerve;better join us."
Mimile's eyes lighted up with joy.
"Oh!" he stammered, "Loupart, you'll take me in the Cypher gang?"
"Maybe," was the enigmatic reply. Then with a shove he sent the youngman to the back of the den. "Must go and talk it over with the Beard."Without paying heed to the thanks of his new recruit, Loupart continuedhis dictation to Josephine.
As the Sapper and Nonet went quickly down the Rue Charbonniere, Nonetinquired:
"Well, chief, what do you think of our evening?"
The individual that the hooligans of La Chapelle knew by the nickname ofthe Sapper, and who was no other than Inspector Michel, slowly strokedhis long beard:
"Not much," he declared, "except that we've been bluffed by the Square."
"Why not round up the bunch?" suggested Nonet, who was known asInspector Leon.
"It's easy enough to talk, but what can two do against twenty? Who wantsto take such risks for sixty dollars a month?"
In the meantime Josephine was writing at the Square's dictation:
"I know, sir, that to-morrow Loupart will be at Garnet's wine-shop at seven o'clock, which you know is to the right as you go up the Faubourg Montmartre, before you reach the Rue Lamartine. From there he will go to Doctor Chaleck's to tackle the safe, which is placed, as I told you, at the far side of the study, facing the window, with its balcony overlooking the garden. I wouldn't have meddled in the matter except that there'll be something worse regarding a woman. I can't tell you any more, for this is all I know. Make the best of it, and for God's sake never let Loupart know the letter was sent to you by the undersigned.
"Very respectfully,"
About to sign her name, Josephine looked up, trembling and anxious.
"What does it mean, Loupart? You've been drinking, I'm sure you have!"
"Sign, I tell you," calmly replied the Square, and the girl, hypnotised,proceeded to trace in her large clumsy hand, her name, "JosephineRamot."
"Now put it in an envelope."
From the end of the saloon the Beard was signalling Loupart.
"What is it?" the latter cried, annoyed at the interruption.
The Beard came near and whispered:
"Important business. The dock man's scheme is going well--it'll be forthe end of the week, Saturday at latest."
"In four days, then?"
"In four days."
"All right," declared Josephine's lover, "we'll be on hand. It'll be abig haul, I hear."
"Fifty thousand at least, the Cooper told me."
Loupart nodded, waved the Beard aside and resumed:
"Address it to
"Monsieur Juve,
"Commissioner of Safety,
"At the Prefecture, Paris."