Evening Star Newspaper, September 24, 1898, Page 18

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 1898-24 PAGES. xe 7a DONDE DIO ION OMEN NONE MOONE OMORO NON ‘oes : J TIRE UELSUSLLELEWS LIS aye ie THE LOST PROVINCES, / How Vansittart Came Back to France. 7) Pa aS ae WRITTEN FOR THE EVENING STAR BY LOUIS TRACY. } t (Copyright, 1888, by Louis Tracy.) eo} cake REI LNAIEE ICH? NOOO WENONED CHAPTER XXL How Withelm Received the News. At about the time when news of the ab- duction of yn reached Paris, it reached also the German corps at Metz. The great men laid their heads together and whis- 1 and smiled. But there was one man » heard nothing of it—the Emperor Wil- as undoubtedly he That became Who should When he did hear, must, what would he say? the question. And also this: rtake to tell him? ound himself the object of the cution of all the men around self from the atmos- » excl ere is And his persecutors in- ted up a with th rtinacity and nipresence of the atmosphere. 1 this wa » hour of the evening as d at the inn It was in le at Metz % hand the upward- t aggressive mustache, 2 out wh r polnted to a spot ‘ nich lay n on ihe long, | baize bie in the room. Peal You ui und, then,” he said, “it is east of Con What the ething has hap- ts him to ma: i mi m's eyes were or ten seconds ning? sire—his wife has been kid- knew and felt that the eyes al were riveted upon his face, that from it every sign of aded. But he did not speak. ck ticked sixty seconds, and sixty ing a perfect silence, and during th the devils w busy in the id: nd, then; niles east of Conflans, it is here—here where ned Von Gossler; “that The idea arose in the aping Mr: he brain— wit Vansittart, o do general. a pi However, it It has of his final ts with majesty, about the disap- = he cried, “can’t Wife is mewhat in flungs ma- rules and the < a t may but tactics w, sire.” sore point. He th averted head. lungs major said fear. sire, of further man oO peating the in infi iteration, Wilhelm + thing about his head, major,” said Wilhelm. Ther 4 pause; there was embarrass- a the major a 1 have rd, ard; Wilhelm objected again. He turned like a horse pricked ying loudly: puted, all encrim- brandishing his 3 horse, turned midst ef th Phen he lifted of invectives came ming horses torrent round hung their heads in awe at this wholly un outbreak. As Wilhelm once m et his horse's head and the procession {on the guilty major slunk quietly Rcers Th 1s did Wilhelm securely seal his ears truth. Later in the day it b: y known that no whisper of the to be permitted to reach the Witelm had crushed his nest arch of ants. But tn doing so he had definitely admitted to himself that he had a motive for this im n of silence, and that the motive a@ good one. Within his bosom began to swarm and sting another there nest of ants—eternal ones, heavenly in or- igin—not easy to be crushed. CHAPTER XXII. The Quest. M. Folliet. prefect of police, was busily @ating a long-deferred meal in the imme- morta! old inn at Vimes at 9 o'clock In the t really happened was this: Wilhelm / s night, Von | Jevening when there reached him the sound [ef votces from the courtyard below, and. presently the landlord entered backward, bowing, ushering in two new guests. Fol- let stared, almost starting to his feet. There was Armand, and there, bonneted and begloved, was Marie. That morning Folliet had left Armand in Paris, with no apparent intention of coming hither. But now, with a sudden remem- brance, he recollected Armand’s question whether or no he, Folliet, would be found at Vimes that night, and he recalled the fact that Armand had asked it just after the detective’s expression of uncertainty as to whether he would be able to find Mrs. | Vansittart. In a moment the incomparable Tance of the young man dawned him, and, in spite of himself, he brok to a laugh. He understood the othe whole motive: stirred by some whim Sratitude toward Vansittart, the con: tcire freshling had come to help the old chase! I'm very glad to see you, ou, madam,” ery of fer- sir,” extending unexpected.. Are * answer- sufferably I would give is my voca- quite a waint antiquity. Are the i the last few days of | : idieus connoi: extra traveling place had only been obtain- ys of Marie to the Mont id Fo! I thought . quite so, mons ict, “but about the ma- Those have been Jed to. I had plenty of time for that er. I have left my instructions with > firm you mentioned, and the things will, no doubt, be ready within the specified time. But—Mrs. Var is there any hope, sk?" Was over at the the pair, he was ion. must not despair,” jet’s lau whimsical apparition of rv vexed at the intru: “Well, I suppose w2 , dryly. this time Marie By things. with a roast c had taken off her The landlerd’s daughter enter2d pon and a grimy bottle of began to eat, and also to "he said, “is to her speedy res- and drained his glass twice in succes- if you drink much wine,” whisp2red how is M. Folliet to find her then?” The relation between the amount imbibed Armand and Folliet's powers of dis- covery, though vague, seemed quite clear to Marie; Folliet, had he heard, would not have | y flattered, perhaps. : ading the Paris papers, ey are full of nothing of the abduction, as much of r host here could supply to report- And I have been making a theory of event. T am a theorist, sir—a born theorist. The difference, M. Folliet, b. tw . ist and the practical man in this, that the practical ngly theoretical, and the al, rightly practical. if that I am a dreamer, I am well is to hit straight inner nail which cept the dreamer, there is nobody this wine good, me, I fine “It is not bad wine,” said Folliet, meekly. “One has only to keep on drinking it, in arrive at a stage of absolute self- Argonne wine. at Argonn>.” do you mean, m in wine is truth, unexpec as no 2 able some sort of fact that this wine is Sappearance of Mrs. the tco long for his ken; and he to se much in his time, too. “LI do not see any relation, mons! Tr,” he Armand, “pert > aps it is un- fair to expect that you sheul The f: is, I believe, that I have a far more inti- © 2 than you, ever, tell you two k, you will be able at when I entered red our host, with thre: I meant, to place before very win? in his house; and, ndly, that in spite of th eats, I ever for a moment supp. would © me Argonne Argonne has om> th it is one of exquis on earth.” | why did you not suppose that he ve it you, when you asked for his liet. elt sure, monsieur, that such t possibly b> found in such r you a thousand franes that if ou offer our host a million louis for a jozen_ simil tles he will be unable to produce them. he ros:, and tugged the bell old man came shambling into said Armand, carelessly, ellent beverage you give me. I ccmpliment you. “Tam pleased you like it, sir,” said tha old man, bowing. well, monsieur, that I have deter- rained to offer you four hundred frances per bottle for six bottles tomorrow when I con- tinue my journey.”” “Four nundred francs,” n a kind if glee. ‘our hundred franc: nly four bottles left said Armand. “Four be useless to me.” He glanced at echoed the old “I am sure, sir, it is very unforturate,” | said the old man, confused. “You have one, the gentleman near you another—there are but four left.” “Wha:! You gave monsieur a bottle, too, without his asking for it? erou. You are gen- Iendlerd.” it, then, You very excellent wine, mon- do not know its name sur, no: I forget its name. But Ware that it is the best I have—for ain ‘A short time since, monsteur.’ “That is not telling me when, however.” The old man hesitated. “When do you say?" persisted Armand. monsieur.”” You only bought them yesterday, then?” “That is all, sir." “How I should like to buy some! Pray tell me, whem did you buy them from Again the old man hesitated. Folllet’s eyes, fixed on his ce. saw it pale a little, 30 far, the detective knew not in the least whither this dialogue tended. “Ah, you are unwilling to tell me whom you bought them from,” said Armand. “It is a trade secret, perhaps. Yet I know. Let me tell you. You bought them from the two guests who drove away from your inn last night at 8 o'clock.” The old man’s eyes opened in some alarm. Suspicion, he knew, had turned upon these two as being connected with the two who had remained behind, and had presumably committed the outrage. The old mar be- gan to perceive clearly that these two were nere other than detectives from Paris be- fore whom he stood. What if he, too, were implieated, and his neck endangered? He shuffled and stammered. “No, monsieur, said. “I swear—" “Do not swear,” interrupted Armand, “for there is no necessity; merely assert. You did not buy» the wine, then? These geatlemen gave it to you?” “Sir, sir, 1.either the one nor the othe: erted the landlord, resolving now to tell the history of the six botties of Argonne; “yes- tere’en, near 6, there arrived at the inn yard four gentlemen; two of them in a carrosse and pair, and about ten minutes later two others on foot. The first two didn’t know the second two—or didn't seem to. But they all had dinner together in the parlor: and during the meal one of the car- riage two sent my daughter down to the carriage In the stables, telling her to look inside and she would see a basket with ten bettles of wine in the squares, of which she was to bring four—which she did, and all four drank of it, friendly like. trough there was hardly a word spoken among them. Well, messteurs, about 8 or there- abouts, the carriage two went off in their carriage, leaving the others, and with them. of course, they took their basket of bottles. I didn’t care about their wine. I idn’t want their wine. But what was my surprise this morning, on going to the bot- tom of the garden, to find there the basket with the six bottles in it, right enouzh, and the squares half choked’ with mud and the rain which had fallen during the night. There's all my fault, messteurs—a poor nan who firds a windfall of wine, what would you have?” “Why didn’t you tell me all that before When I was questioning you?” asked Fol- jet. “TI thought it of no moment, sir—a poor man who finds a windfall of wine—where’s the harm?” “No harm whatever,” said Armand, “‘on the contrary, to find a basket of Argonne at the bottom of one’s garden is the eighth and greatest of the virtues. You may re- tire, monsieur.” The old man bowed himself out. “And am I to understand, sir,” said Fol- liet, “that you divined or deduced, this tale which we have just heard fron¥ observa- tions of your own?” “Something of that sort,” replied Ar- “NO, MONSIEUR,” mand, still sipping at the wine with evident gusto. or must you think me omnfscient as well as omnipotent, monsieur. There js absolutely no mystery or magic about the matters You are perhaps not so exquisite- ly familiar with the aspect of bottles that have long lain in old eellars as I, and here is the key to my present penetration. The first thing, of course, a connoisseur looks at on the presentation before him of his wine is the grime stains on the outside. I, looking at this bottle tonight, determined first of all that it had never, even for a ear at all. It was grimy yet absolute certainty I knew that here was not the grime of the cellar. We now know that it was the grime left by 1 and rain water when dried, and this, ‘S$ 4 matter of fact, I guessed. I expected, on pouring it out, to taste the wretch dregs; guess my delight at finding delic Argonne—Argonne that had never lain in a cellar—Argonne begrimed with rain—Ar- gonne, above all, whose bottle had no label on it, and whose cork had not been sealed with resin. I think now, monsieur, that I need go no further. You draw your own conclusions.” “I do! I do!” eried Folliet, with some ex- citement. “Yet let me hear yours. I know quite well that they are worth hearing, M. nd.” he first conclusion at least,” said Ar- at once obvious; namely, that landlord had, from whatever source, just acquired the wine—it had never in his cellar. But the Paris papers rt that he declares that for some days he has had no visitors whatever except the four who interest us. I say the four, for Mrs. Vansittart and the two men who car- ried her off must have used some convey: ance, and since none was hired in the neighborhood, it can only be that the two in the earrosse having gone away, returned and. waited for their confederates in the dark at the bottom of the garden. You have scen this garden, monsieur, and I have not; my conjecture is that at the end of it run: path enough to admit a carrosse. Is that It is, monsieur. Pray go on.” hen in that path the carrosse waited. We have therefore to do with four and not two. And you see how it was impossible day, lain ina with \¢ — ‘ Walking Slowly to and Fro. for me to doubt that, somehow, by means of the four, our host ‘had obtained his Ar- gonne. “If you see a company of four people.go- ing about with an indefinite number of bot- tles of Argonne without labels, drinking it prodigally at their ordinary’ meals, and casually leaving the rest of it behind at the bottom of a garden as soon as it be- comes inconvenient to them, you may be quite certain that at least one of them is a denizen of Argonne, who, having plenty of Argonne habitually in’ his possession, brought with him for the pleasure of the rest these odd unlabeled bottles.” Folliet’s eyes were riveted on the young men’s face. He did not speak; he mur- mured and nodded assent. “I do not know, M. Folliet,”” proceeded Armand, “I do not know if there now re- mains any sort of doubt in your mind that at least one of the four confederates is a HE SAID, resident at Argonne; as for me, certainly there is no sugh dobbt. “The landlo#d télis me,” said Folliet, “that three of the four spoke with marked German accents, whereas the fourth spoke quite good French, but was fair-halred. He probably was ¢ German, too, you see, but spoke good oe the simple reagon that he has lived a jong time in e “And if in FFance{monsieur,” replied Ar- mand, “then in Argonne. That one of them came from tMere I have proved. To be certain that they returned there, one need only rembmbe({ that Argonne at least fulfills the codditiohs as to remoteness, a friend, a hcuse and so on, and to remem- ber the extreme rarity of the chances that any other place would fulfill all the con- ditions necessary t» the accomplishment of the design. Mrs. Vansittart is at Ar- gonne.”” : Marie’s he@A, ledhing on his shoulder, suddenly nodded with a jerk. She was ee Folliet arose. “It is well reasoned,” he said. ‘Through your acumen, monsieur, perhaps by this hour tomorrow night we may have— “Discovered their motive for leaving their wine behind, monsieur,” sald Armand, with a rather strange laugh. CHAPTER XXIII. The Race. At about 4 the next morning Folliet knocked at Armand’s door and roused him. “Monsieur,” said the detective, “I am about to breakfast and set out upon my search; I need not say that I shall be de- lighted if you will share my investiga- tions.” “Certainly, monsieur,” Armand replied. “l SWEAR —~— “I, too, shall be delighted. Can you lend me 100 francs? Folliet smiled in the half Carkni “By all means, monsieur! Here is a note.”” Armind turned to dress. When the pro- cess was completed he bent over drowsy Marie and kissed her. She put an instinc- tive arm about him, murmuring sleepy con- ment. He sal Tam going awa! “No!” She sprang up at once. ‘TL am!” “Armand! what for?” find Mrs. Vansittart.”” And you are going to leave me?” “must, darling.” “How wretched you will be, and I also! Ah, cruel!” vo, I can't help; one must be practical gcod. and I don’t quite know where I may have to go to, or I could take you It won’t be for long, our parting. Here are a hundred francs which M. Folliet has given me. With these you will pa ur expenses at this inn; and from Gravelotte I shall telegraph to you, telling you where to come to me. There are some novels in the trunks which you can read; good-bye, sweet—ah, sweet!” He undid her arms from his ae and ‘an away from her half vexed, half ten- Ger tears. In half an nour he was with Folliet in a train. Armand said: ' nd now, monsieur—your plans.”” hey are simple,” replied Folliet. “The ance between Vimes, which we are now leaving, and Argonne, to which we are fin- ally going, is about eighty miles. Just about midway between the two is a little station called Renne. I intend to stop at Renne.” “What for, monsieur “You will’ immediately agree with me when you hear,” said Follict. “This dis- tance of eighty miles it was evidently the intention of the kidnapers to traverse Gur- ing the hours of darkne: Morning, of course, would be extremely dangerous to them. But their horses had already done some traveling when they arrived at Vimes, and the rest there was short. It is certain, then, that by some contrivance or other they managed to change horses dur- ing the night, and the place most advan- tageous te them for the change would be somewhere not far from the middle point between Vimes and Argonne; somewhere not far from Renne. Within a radius of twenty miles around Renne I intend, there- tore, to make personal, well-directed in- quiries.”” “Excellent, monsieur,” said Armand—“if we only had'a year to spare.”” At these words the countenance of Fol- liet flushed to a deep and angry red. “Pray explain your meaning,” he said, curtly. “I suppose that Mr. Vansittart is anxious for the recovery of his wife as soon as pos- sible, monsieur “I suppose so, sir, That is why I propose the very specdiest)means of “recovering er.”” Armand bowed. “I differ from you, monsieur, that is all. I think we should go on straight to Ar- geonne at once." a “Very well; then we must agree to differ, monsieur.” 7. “Very well, monsieur.”* Armand at once turned to the book he was reading, Fglliet $9 his memoranda. ‘Till the train drew up at-Renne neither spoke a word. ra Folliet rose, collected his stick, mackin- tosh and papers antf stepped toward the door. To his surprise, he noticed when he reached it that Armand had not moved. di “This is the , Station, monsieur,” said Folliet. snags “I know." “Aren’t you coming out?’ “No—I am going onito Argonne.” “Oh, very good. Good morning.” “Good morning, ménsieur. I shall find Mrs. Vansittart before you!” Folliet flushed. “That time alone can show, sir.” “Before you, monsieur!" Folhet had put out his foot on the step- board by this time. He half.turned to an- swer: “Happy season of youth! His foot touched the platform. "4 “Before you, monsieur!”” cried Armand. “Blessed innocence of childhood!” sneer- ed Folliet. “Oh, but M. Folliet!’ called Armand; “will you lend me 100 francs? f have no money.” Folliet put his hand in his pocket, and without a word handed the other a note. As he was about to pass through a door- way of the station, he heard the unrelent- ing voice crying after him: : “Before you, monsieur! 5 If ever he was on his acme of effort to do a thing well and swiftly he was so now. He had been challenged by a child. Armand, too, as soon as he found himself alone in the train, knit his brows. “Come, now,” he said aloud, “suppose we teach M. Folliet, the prefect of police, a lesson in modesty. Beneath this youth's froth was the ele- mental rock itself. By Epernay,by St.Hilaire, by St-Menhould passed Armand. The railway is circuitous— the train was slow. Not till near 10 o'clock did he get out at Clarmont-en-Argonne. At the station Armand drank a large tum- bler of genuine Argonne, for which he paid enly about four pence. He walked 20 yards down the street, stopped at an unpreten- tious hotel, and drank another, preparatory to dejeuner. Here was paradise to the light of heart, and the quaffing of goblets in Valhalla! His eyes began to sparkle, and his feet to tread on air. iis problem was not merely to find Mrs. Vansittart, but to souse himself with Ar- genne wine and find Mrs. Vansittart as well. The thing was not easy; but with tae additional glass his hopes grew rosier ued. “Do you know a German named—I forget his name—but a wine grower about here?” he asked the patron of his hotel. “& German, sir? No.” “Just think, now." “I know none such, monsieur, But I have been here only six months. You would be mere likely to find what you want by in- quiring in the villages.” “Ah, well; it is all one,” said Armand to rimself. “Folliet can't be here before night ard I shall know by then. Ariother glass of '90, monsieur.”” He went presently, after breakfast, saun- tering through the town, whistling loudly for the benefit of passersby, his hat thrown far back on his head. Armand, as Mr. Arnold says of Heine, was so essentially “disrespectable.”” Just now he was being violently torn two Ways. The sun was bright, the wine ran vividly in his veins—he wanted to make a day of it, here in this land beyond Jordan, flowing with milk and honey. In his pock- et were 100 francs; crying “Spend us, spend us! On the other hand, there was his boast to Folliet. He felt sure that he was at least a step nearer the truth than Fol- liet. It would be too hard, too poor, if he threw away his advantage. And Folliet all the time was probably working hard, straining every nerve, Every time he thought of this he quick- ered his steps: every time he heard the cry of the 100 francs in his pocket he struck up a song and entered a drinking house. He was not, in reality, a person of weak will, but he had two wills in him, both Strong, equal and opposite. This rendered his equilibrium unstable. He was “un- steady.” But through all the ferment ot his brain he did not for a moment entirely lose sight of the end in view, and his fine faculty of thought remained’ pretty intact, like a slowing coal under heaps of fluff and ashes. He stopped a erby and said: i at is the nearest village? “Rouflet. tees “How far?” _ Four kilomete: itg7® it @ decent place? Any fine houses in Tt is rather a poor pla: Any vineyards near it “Two or three around it.” “an one get good Argonne wine there?” ‘Oh, certainly. It possesses eb ines In the dtily; Tt possesses the best vines “Tt k you, monsteur,” He set off. He had already decided to bee Rae Be Wanted in a poor rather than a ric locality, and in a villa ‘athet than the town. TSS EIS Rouflet he found to consist Street, flag paved. He pa inging, and near the further a diminutite cabaret. On cach side of the leaning, talking. One the proprietor, a burly figure with a thick black mane of hair; the other was tali, wore rings and a heavy watch chain, and’had a nose with a distinct dent in the center of the ridge. The proprietor of the orasserie spoke to him with a certain defere nee which Ar- mand, as he entered, noted. He could hear that they were talking about the war, and the rumored probability of another ad battle taking place on the following lay. As Armand entered the door to serve him. of a steep ed through it rend entered door two men were landlord left the The other man, who seemed to be merely lounging away a morning's hour at the inn decor, followed, and a: he did so said with a yawn: “Well, gossip Pierre, it is Jong since I have bought a glass of my own wine from you. I, too, have a sip for good luck."* “Ah, that’s talking,” answered Pierre, “We must mark it up with chalk. Yet the tip of the wine grower’s broken nose was of so vivid a scarlet that it was certain the drinking of ns owa wine wis not such a rarity with him as Pierre im- plied. “Now, here’ the wine grower; “you can s very cut of his ‘clothes and sips his wine, as if Isn’t that so, neighbor? With this playful sally he addres mand. They were standing side shoulder to shoulder. ark from Pari the way it were dangerous. os ed Ar- by side, “You are right,” said Armand, “I am from Paris.” “And what are you doing our way—tour- ing?”’ “No—they sent me down here—doctor people. Left lung. Argonne air, Argonne wine—and plenty of it.” You are quite a stranger here, then?” “I don’t know a soul. “What do you think cf the chances of a battle tomorrow?” “I don’t care a curse about the chances of a battle tomorrow. What does it mat- ter to such as you and me? I am come down here to drink ne—and get heaith. My left lung is pa-a-a.” “Well, I wouldn’t have thought that to look at you. Do you play chess?” “Rather! De you?” “Hi him, Pierr He asks if I can play chess! “Why, man, of course, I can Oh, that’s all right, then. Only don't play with me. 1 shall certainly beat you.” “You? Just hear him! Well, it’s won- derful what those Paris chaps think of themsely: 3 “Oh, it isn’t that,” said Armand. “I learn- ed to play at Heidelberg, which is the very best place to learn.” “What! you have been in Germany “Rather. My mother was a German.” “D—n it! Well, so was mine, and I'm not ashamed to own ft.” “Good! [ don't mind taking you at a game, then. But chess playing isn’t what I devote myself mostly to. I have an- other hobby. “And what's that?” “Stamp collecting.” Armand had, seen a pocket book cnd sticking from the breast of the stranzer, such a one as is used for the temporary home of stamps, and, standing a ‘ittle out, the serrated edges cf some specimen sheets. The man was surprised. “No!” he said. “Why, it's wonderful! It’s the very thing I do myself!” “I’ve got a fine example of the suppressed Nevis 84," remarked Armand. “No! Well, that’s a treasure! Will you show it me?” “With pleasure. My stamp book ts in Clermont. Some day during the week, if you will pay me a visit.” At this point the landlord presented to them the chess board and the box contain- ing the pieces. They proceeded to a little room back of the bar, and sat with the board between them. Armand ordered a bottle of ’90. At the end of threo hours they still sat there. Of five games Armand won three, and with every game he ordered a bottle of '#. The talk was all of stamps. At 4 o’clock,in a little village twelve miles from Renne, Folliet, on his side, was deep in talk with a smail vigneron of the dis- trict. He had been hearing a tale about a car- riage from which the horses had been taken at midnight in order to put in their places two of the vigneron’s own which had been bought from him during the day for ready money down. “How many people were there?” Folliet. “Four, I fancy, monsieur, one of them well.” “a German?’ “No—French.” asked but I only saw “He spoke French quite well.” “What sort of looking man?’ “Tall, with fair hair and mustach “Go on.” “That's about all I remember. He was a pleasant kind of man to talk to, too. Oh, stop! There was something wrong with hia nose. It had a dent in the middle of the bridge.” “Why didn’t you give information of all this to the police instead of giving me this trouble?” Folliet, as he said it, glanced anxiously at his watch, with an exclamation of im- patience. “I had no idea that there was anything wrong,” answered the man. “All was square and above board.” “Well, here's a louis: I may want you es jumped tate: & Wat. uoces aan wink galloping through the lanes toward Renne. Here he sent a telegram to the bureau de police at Clermont. “Find out at once address of man, fair, tall, broken nose, probably German, proba- bly vintner, in district of Argonne. ‘Promp- utude of supreme importance. Will arrive next train. Folliet, prefect.” Then he went to the station, and, chafling with nervous impatience, walked up and down the platform, waiting. CHAPTER XXIV. To Gravelotte. Folltet did not arrive at Clermont till af- ter 7 that night. But he arrived fuil of hope, and at Clermont-en-Argonne the ad- dress and name of the man he wanted were waiting for him. The detective who made inquiries was in attendance and handed him a slip on his entry into the bureau des renseignements. There was a man who al- most entirely answered to the description, and there was only one in the district. His name was Henri Riechenberg, and he was the owner of the vineyard cailed La Pib- louette, about two kilometers norrkest ot Rouflet, which in turn was a village four kilometers north of Clermont. With joy he saw that there was no moon and that the sky was covered over with black clouds. He took a cab to Rouflet, dismissing it just outside the village. The might was then confirmed and dark. He drew the collar of his mackintosh high over his ears and chin and passed quickly down the street. Then he struck northeast over the open country. He met no one anywhere. In three-quarters of an hour, following a winding road, he came upon a chalk cliff which stretched right across his path; its bare white cragginess just loomed upon him in the darkness before he butted upon it. The edge of the cliff ran about fifteen feet above his head. He had received a description sufficiently minute of the place. He turned to the left along a footpath which ran along the base ef the rock. In his course he passed by a square spot of deeper blackness ig the rock face. He tapped It; it was wooden. It was a door—the entrance to the cellars of Henri Reichenberg. He walked on and in three minutes came to a break in the continuity of the cliff. it was a harrow, steep flight of stone steps, cut out of the rock to the upper level of the elif. He ascended. he top he found himself at the en- » of an extremely long avenue of lin- » Which met overhead. Here it wa: very dark. He proceeded up the avenu with intense caution, though in reality there was little need for it, for not a sound broke the silence of the world, and the mc under foot was deep and continuous, ing the footfall noiseless. Presenti far end of th venue, where the most met in perspecti the glimmer of a light. most at once. He went on. trees remoteness, he saw But it vanished al- ‘That light,” he said, light in the house of Henri Reichenberg. Some one opened and shut a door or a window—hence { ance and ¢ pearance. [s } ansittart realiy and truly behind those shuttered apertures? I wonder—I wonder. The mere shuttering of Pe them is sus ous. I shall know, Henri Reichenberg, within fifteen minute But he knew sooner. He knew within five minut uddenly, as he walked through the now dens: solutely soundless moss, he came into sha: collision with some one coming in the oppo- site direction down the avenue. It was a man bigger than himself and heavier. Fol- liet nearly fell backward. “Pardon, m’sieur,” sa and drowsy voice. “Collisions are natu te Erebus and modern civilization alike.” The remark was quite in the tone of the Latin quarter. Foliiet, with a siart as vio- lent as though he had heard the devil speak, recognized Armanc “Ah, M. Armand—you!” he gasped. “What, you, M. Folliet?” “It is L” admitted Folliet. Armand’s hand went out and hit Folliet’s in the dark. ive a hearty grip. “M. Folliet,” he said, “allow me to con- gratulate you. You are a great man.” “Ho exclaimed Folliet—“it is you!— you were here first! “That is true, mons the right thing. You get here all the same. eatncss. Well, if t his marro’ darkness on the ab- upon He gave the detect- eur. But then I did did the wrong—and That is what I call n't a gentleman to He *olliet mons: Don’t + who are We are both great men,” Armand with large sententiousnes: But—bui—how long Fave you been here?” About two hours.” g 00d, Lora: pot in the house? “Yes: in the hoi I have just left it.” {And is Mrs. Vansittart iene “For the last hour and a half I have been eping in the room adjoining hers. Sleeping! Oh, this is incredip! “Only at first, monsieur. Not when know the facts. The truth is, monsfeur, [ wii Or, said sh have been—drunk on Argonne if drunk is too ccarse a word the effects of Argonne, say It is not an intoxication—it tion. etar is not 2 wir I doubt, monsieur, ra Yes, you are. I believe you are soberest when you are drunk. did you manage? “There is a man, monsieur, who, accord- ing to my present recoilecti on, is cali Henr: Riechenberg. This man,’ almost soon as I saw him, and as soon as I hea him, 1 knew to be one of the four. It is not true that he speaks perfect French, though his French is near perfection. He has, in fact, lved half his life in Munich, Having understood this, [ persuaded him to get drunk in my compan When I am transfigured, monsicur, I do not fail to re- in a certain empire of iny soul, a little 1 amid the gloom; but in the case of Henri Riechenberg, if that bis right name, you get a gloom whicn ts the pri- meval gloom itself. I played SS With Riechenberg, and beat him only suifelently to induce him to keep on playing. Finally, as we are both ardent philatelisis, he took me home to see his c and while he was show! aslep. Riechenberg, be But, Mrs. Vansittart! Saw her, monsieur. lection ef stamp: ng Me We both fe eve me, still sium- You saw her?” She will die soon it in an awed whisper; and in an awed whisper Folliet answe: How! die, you say? How do you mean?” “I only caught one glimpse of her fac The house, I may tell you, is a small, mean one—two stories—built of white freestone— not more than eight rooms. But these reoms are crowded with mea, arm soldier-like people, Germans. The seve room, on the first floor, is Ricchenberg who has her under his ‘i surveil- lance; the eighth is Mrs. Vansitiart’s. As I passed into Riechen»=rg's room I saw througa a slightly opened door—a woman. She appeared to be Slowly walking to am fro; it was evident at once harassed ta the point of ‘un : wie face, monsieur! Anything as wan, and drawn, and pity-kindling, you can hardly imagine. if this lasts. He stopped. “Ah, but it won't. last!’ with clenched fists. t is you who have found her. What do yoa advise?” “I don’t advise anything, M. Folliet,” said Armand. “A practieal point hke that I leave to you. But I have one warning to give you—don’t make an attack upor the house unless you are quize sure that your foree of gendarmes very largely preponder. ates over the force of armed men within it. Brg a merely equal force against the place, and we lose Mrs. ‘ansit “ge ‘Ah, that's the point,” said Folliet. I bring a sufficient force? Loox here, this 38 a matter which no man but one should take into his hands—and ha: man Mr. Van- sittart.” “i entirely agree with you, monsieur.”” “Then let us go to him ané consult him,” “By all means—and at once.” “Can you ride?” “Is there no train?” “Not for some time. Two swift and strong horses—that’s what we want. Twen- ty miles or so, the distance is nothing. Let us go beck to Clerment. I can get two of the gendarmerie mounts.” They at once set out at a rapid walk. On the road near Rouflet they met an empty cart, and offered the driver a louis to take them at a gallop to Clermont. In twenty minutes they arrived in the town. As they went toward the bureau de po- lice they passed a post office. Armand entered and dispatched a telegram to Marie at Vimes: I “Take the first train to Gravelotte. shall be there, looking out for you.” Then he joined Folliet at the bureau over the way. In ten minutes they were rounted on two stout coursers, and clattering through the town. Twice only they drew rein to knock at cottage doors, and make themselver cer- tain of the route. The rest of the journey” was one long, sflent, intense gallop. They passed through the French army, and at akcut midnight dashed into Gravelotte on Vansittart was putting up at the inn called Cheval d'Or. He had cried Folliet, “Can —=<—————[—[———————_=_====_—— but a chambermala was able to gi positive assurance that he was not He could be heard walking still in his rocm. She took up a message, and retur ed with the command that Folliet should wait in the salon. Armand had not sent up his name. Presently Vansittart entered, wrapped in a dressing gown of crimson sik, with a gcld-wrought ceinture. “Ah, M. Folliet.” he said, “this is a sur prise. And do my eyes deceive me? Surely here is M. Dupres.”” He spoke quite heartily. But his tense of nonchalance was as hollow shallow as possible, making him still m an object of pity. He could not hide haggerd glare of his cye, nor the care whic sat on bis faded cheek. “We are now arrived post haste from the neighborhood of a small town called Clermont, in Argonne, Mr. Vansitta said Folliet. “I may tell you at once th we have found Mrs. Vansittart, or, rathe to be exact, this gentleman here has fo: - Dupres?” Yes, sir. “Seen her?” His face was screwed into an expresston of gaunt, distorted inquisitiveness. “Yes; I have seen her,” said Armand “Really? You have? My God, you have seen her, then?” His knees gave, upon a couch. “I merely caught a glimpse of her face in passing,” said Armand. “And she is—well? Did seeni—well? To think that you have seen her!” Armand, in pity, said: “Oh, she is well enough. A little pale perhaps—no more than is natural under the circumstances.” “A little pale, perhap: peated mechanically. “She is in a healthy locality,” venture Folliet. “But where—where?” and he sank backward Vansittart re- ‘At a house surrounded by vineyards in ne e district.” “But, M. Folliet, you have left her there?” the place is full of armed men, moi sieur. I did not at the moment feel n seif in a position to attempt a pes. without consulting you. An attempt which falied would make matters only worse. How many men 1 should say between thirty and forty replied Armand There are extensive wine cellars ben the house, a labyrinth of hiding pla doubtless in direct communication by stairs building. During aa attack which a complete sucprise, your wife taken down into the cellar excellent’ plan! Is your me mad It is merely > drive no. eur? wEextion which ke. Find me the men, and [ will ur dcrtake the rest. You must not come. You that you are not In the tigt rame of mind fo army here ¢ sittart’s h i Va ad was bowed dow knees. For some time he sat so. said: Well, M. Folliet, if you wil come with . 1 think I can put at your disposal atever force we may think ne or a re ue. As for myself, 1 m nnot accompany you: things here » Will probably require my pres The three left the inv together and pro- ceeded down the street to a private where Col, Mon . aman wh ity and resou 2 observ. was now lying asl» y a ine house and in a few mmutes the four men were deep in colloquy. Vansittart recommcaded continge sixty chasseurs as a suitable e: msint- ing upon the necessity of se minding them of the : the house. In case darmerie migat b “If I have ‘he haj by lock tomorrow morung he said to Montsaloy, “you will lifelong grautude.” They walked tow: village. Within tw: and ittart sto beats of the tro and darkness. into rd the w est end of (1 nty minutes Arma i listeamz to ti ening in the dista« (To be continued.) >—— ARIZONA SNAKE YARNS. Some Pretty Tall Tales From ¢ Southwest Territory. From the Denver Republican, The mining camp of Kingman was invaded by a host of rattlesnakes ing great consternation among the er peo} Snakes were discovered in beds and n desperate fights when tackled by the ow ers. Peopie sleeping outdoors narrowly ed a violent death from the poisor s of the serpents. The snakes wi, through the crevices of the Light bourl fences and we! caugai while to enter the house People have sleeping upstairs, and a band stan, pavilion are crowded every night by slee ers who dare not risk sleeping the bar ground. A spell of unust er is thought to t leaving their rocky fastnesses for 4 abode in the settlement. A man at Mesa City has a pet Gila 1 ster. He let it go abe order that it might s annual custom. Th to its usual haun’ he cause her day king th juvenated. Its owner gave it a bath, af which it made a break for its feed where it has been in the habit eggs and other luxuries. Toads grow to an abnormal size ern Arizona, and often exhibit a 4 ural intelligence. Recently the arc were started at Mesa City, and myria bugs are in co uence attracted at by the glare. The toads have discc this new source of supply anc the that fall to the ground as rapidly as come within reach, It is supposed tha new diet has created an unnatur and in looking around for a sour which to quench it they discovered troughs that receive the drippings from th beer faucets in the saloons i trude in the saloons and line u troughs and drink until they are th intoxicated, many falling to thou . While others unsteadily to the sidewalk and resume their f James @ ranchman livin Verde avapai county, has discov- ered a scheme that threatens to revolution- ize- existing irrigating methods. Whil walking along the canal bank the other day he observed an enormous bull s stretched at length, with {ts head in water and its body pulsating like a stear pump. Observing the reptile still mor closely he was amazed to see a s m 0! water flowing from its tail. It was actua ly pumping water. The bulisnake harmless creature, and Mr. Thomas, seized with an idea, also seized the snake. How to make it throw a larger stream of wate was the question, and after cx erable thought he tried the experiment of cutting off a portion of the tail. By this mean the snake was induced to throw a full hea | of water at a minimum exertion and se ed to enjoy the job. Mr. Thomas many other bullsnakes, which, b tion with the original pumper, soon adepts in the new system of irrig Then their tails were removed, and for Cay the side of the ranch next the river was lined with snakes engaged in throwing up streams of water from an inch to an inch and a half in diameter. A mining man came along a few days ago and was struck with the novelty of the irrigating method adopted. He thought that the snakes might be used in hydraulic mining, and a num- ber of them were coupled together like gar- rcame ing den hose. The experiment, however, was not entirely. successful, several of the snakes bursting through unevenness of pressure.