XVII. AT THE SAINT-ANTHONY'S PIG
"Pay for a drink, and I'll listen to you," said Hogshead Geoffroy to hissister.
After numerous visits to the many bars and drinking saloons thatsurround the markets, they had finally gone for a late supper into theSaint-Anthony's Pig, the most popular tavern in the neighbourhood,Geoffroy having reconciled himself to waiting for the result of theexamination, which would not be announced until the following day.
* * * * *
A new and original attraction had been stationed outside theSaint-Anthony's Pig for the last few days. After the formal enquiriessucceeding his discovery of the drowned body in the river, Bouzille hadcome to Paris to see the Eiffel Tower. He had met with but a week'sdelay in his itinerary, having been locked up for that time at Orleansfor some trifling misdemeanour.
On entering the capital, Bouzille's extraordinary equipage had causedquite a sensation, and as the worthy fellow, with utter disregard of theheavy traffic in the city, had careered about in it through the mostcrowded streets, he had very soon been run in and taken to the nearestlock-up. His train had been confiscated for forty-eight hours, but asthere was nothing really to be objected against the tramp, he had merelybeen requested to make himself scarce, and not to do it again.
Bouzille did not quite know what to make of it all. But while he wastowing his two carriages behind his tricycle towards the Champ-de-Mars,from which point he would at last be able to contemplate the EiffelTower, he had fallen in with the editor of the _Auto_, to whom, inexchange for a bottle of wine at the next cafe, he had ingenuouslyconfided his story. A sensational article about the globe-trotting trampappeared in the next number of that famous sporting journal, andBouzille woke to find himself famous. The next thing that happened wasthat Francois Bonbonne, the proprietor of the Saint-Anthony's Pig,shrewdly foreseeing that this original character with his remarkableequipage would furnish a singular attraction, engaged him to stationhimself outside the establishment from eleven to three every night, inreturn for his board and lodging and a salary of five francs a day.
It need not be said that Bouzille had closed with the offer. But gettingtired of cooling his heels on the doorstep, he had gradually taken toleaving his train on the pavement and himself going down into thebasement hall, where he generously returned his five francs every nightto the proprietor, in exchange for potations to that amount.
* * * * *
In the basement of the Saint-Anthony's Pig the atmosphere was steadilygetting cloudier, and the noise louder. The time was about a quarter totwo. The "swells," and the young men about town who went to have a bowlof onion soup at the popular cafe because that was the latest correctthing to do, had withdrawn. The few pale and shabby dancers had giventheir show, and in another ten minutes, when the wealthy customers haddeparted, the supper room would resume its natural appearance andeverybody would be at home. Francois Bonbonne had just escorted the lasttoffs up the narrow corkscrew staircase that led from the basement tothe ground-floor, and now he stood, his stout person entirely fillingthe only exit, unctuously suggesting that perhaps somebody would like togive an order for a hot wine salad.
Berthe was sitting in a corner beside her brother, whom the warmth ofthe room and his numerous potations had rendered drowsy, and thinking itan opportune moment to tell him of her scheme, before he becametalkative or quarrelsome, she began to explain.
"There's nothing much to do, but I want a strong man like you."
"Any barrels to roll anywhere?" he enquired in a thick voice.
Berthe shook her head, her glance meanwhile resting mechanically on asmall young man with a budding beard and a pale face, who had just takena seat opposite her and was timidly ordering a portion of sauerkraut.
"I want some bars removed from a window; they are iron bars set instone, but the stone is worn and the bars are very rusty, and anybodywith a little strength could wrench them out."
"And that's all?" Geoffroy enquired suspiciously.
"Yes, that's all."
"Then I shall be very glad to help you: I suppose it will be worthsomething, won't it?" He broke off short, noticing that a man sittingclose by seemed to be listening attentively to the conversation. Berthefollowed his eyes, and then turned with a smile to her brother.
"That's all right; don't mind; I know that man," and in proof of thestatement she held out a friendly hand to the individual who seemed tobe spying upon them. "Good evening again, M. Julot: how are you, since Isaw you just now? I did not notice you were here."
Julot shook hands with her and without evincing any further interest inher, went on with the conversation he was having with his own companion,a clean-shaven fellow.
"Go on, Billy Tom," he said in low tones. "Tell me what has happened."
"Well, there has been the devil to pay at the Royal Palace, owing tothat----accident, you know; of course I was not mixed up in it in anyway: I'm only interpreter, and I stick to my own job. But three weeksafter the affair, Muller was suddenly kicked out, owing to the doorhaving been opened for the chap who worked the robbery."
"Muller, Muller?" said Julot, seeming to be searching his memory. "Whois Muller?"
"Why, the watchman on the second floor."
"Oh, ah, yes; and who turned him out?"
"I think his name is Juve."
"Oh--ho!" Julot muttered to himself. "I thought as much!"
There was a noise at the entrance of the hall, and down the corkscrewstaircase came two people who, judging by the greeting they received,were very popular: Ernestine, a well-known figure, and Mealy Benoit, whowas very drunk.
Benoit lurched from one table to another, leaning on every head and pairof shoulders that came his way, and reached an empty seat on a loungeinto which he crushed, half squashing the pale young man with thebudding beard. The lad made no protest, seeming to be afraid of hisneighbour's bulk, but merely wriggled sideways and tried to give thenew-comer all the room he wanted. Benoit did not seem even to notice thehumble little fellow, but Ernestine took pity on him and assured himthat she would look after him.
"All right, sonny," she said, "Mealy won't squash you; and if he triesany of his games on you, Ernestine will look after you." She took hishead between her two hands and kissed his forehead affectionately,ignoring Mealy Benoit's angry protests. "He's a dear little chap: I likehim," she said to the company at large. "What's your name, deary?"
The boy blushed to the tips of his ears.
"Paul," he murmured.
But Francois Bonbonne the proprietor, with his usual keen eye tobusiness, arrived just then and set down before Mealy Benoit the famoushot wine salad of which he had spoken before. Behind Bonbonne cameBouzille, who had left his turn-out on the pavement and come down intothe supper room to eat and drink his five francs, and more if creditcould be got.
Benoit caught sight of Hogshead Geoffroy and immediately offered toclink glasses with him; he pushed a glass towards him, inviting him todip it with the rest into the steaming bowl; but Geoffroy was warming upunder the influence of alcohol, and broke into a sudden flame of wrathat sight of Mealy Benoit. If Benoit should be given the first place, itwould be a rank injustice, he reflected, for he, Geoffroy, was mostcertainly the stronger man. And besides, the sturdy Hogshead wasbeginning to wonder whether his rival might not have devised an odiousplot against him and put the famous piece of orange-peel upon the track,but for which Geoffroy would have won hands down. So Geoffroy, verydrunk, offered Benoit, who was no whit more sober, the gross affront ofrefusing to clink glasses with him!
"Why, it's you!" exclaimed Bouzille, in ringing tones of such gladsurprise that everybody turned round to see whom he was addressing.Julot and Berthe looked with the rest.
"Why, it's the green man of just now," said the asylum nurse to hercompanion, and he assented, moodily enough.
"Yes, it's him right enough."
Bouzille took no notice of the attention he had provoked, and did notseem to n
otice that the green man appeared to be anything but pleased athaving been recognised.
"I've seen you before, I know," he went on; "where have I met you?"
The green man did not answer; he affected to be engrossed in a mostserious conversation with the friend he had brought with him into thesupper room, a shabby individual who carried a guitar. But Bouzille wasnot to be put off, and suddenly he exclaimed, with perfect indifferenceto what his neighbours might think:
"I know: you are the tramp who was arrested with me down there in Lot!The day of that murder--you know--the murder of the Marquise deLangrune!"
Bouzille in his excitement had caught the green man by the sleeve, butthe green man impatiently shook him off, growling angrily.
"Well, and what about it?"
* * * * *
For some minutes now Hogshead Geoffroy and Mealy Benoit had beenexchanging threatening glances. Geoffroy had given voice to hissuspicions, and kind friends had not failed to report his words toBenoit. Inflamed with drink as they were, the two men were bound to cometo blows before long, and a dull murmur ran through the room heraldingthe approaching altercation. Berthe, anxious on her brother's behalf,and a little frightened on her own, did all she could to induceGeoffroy to come away, but even though she promised to pay for anynumber of drinks elsewhere, he refused to budge from the bench where hewas sitting hunched up in a corner.
* * * * *
When at length he got rid of Bouzille and his exasperating garrulity,the green man resumed his conversation with his friend with the guitar.
"It's rather odd that he hasn't a trace of accent," the latter remarked.
"Oh, it's nothing for a fellow like Gurn to speak French like aFrenchman," said the green man in a low tone; then he stopped nervously.Ernestine was walking about among the company, chatting to one andanother and getting drinks, and he fancied that she was listening towhat he said.
But another duologue rose audible in another part of the room.
"If the gentleman would like to show his strength there's someone readyto take him on."
Hogshead Geoffroy had thrown down his glove!
Silence fell upon the room. It was Mealy Benoit's turn to answer. Atthat precise moment, however, Benoit was draining the salad bowl. Heslowly swallowed the last of the red liquid--one can't do two things atonce--laid the bowl down, empty, on the table, and in thundering,dignified tones demanded another, wiped his lips on the back of hissleeve, and turned his huge head towards the corner where Geoffroy washunched up, saying, "Will the gentleman kindly repeat his last remark?"
* * * * *
Ernestine moved furtively to Julot's side, and affecting to beinterested only in the argument going on between Geoffroy and Benoit,said without looking at him:
"The pale man, with the greenish complexion, said to the man with theguitar, 'It's he, all right, because of the burn in the palm of hishand.'"
Julot choked back an oath, and instinctively clenched his fist, butErnestine already had moved on and was huskily chaffing the young manwith the budding beard. Julot sat with sombre face and angry eyes, onlyreplying in curt monosyllables to the occasional remarks of his nextneighbour, Billy Tom. Marie, the waitress, was passing near him and hesigned to her to stop.
"Say, Marie," he said, nodding towards the window that was behind him,"what does that window open on to?"
The girl thought for a moment.
"On to the cellar," she said; "this hall is in the basement."
"And the cellar," Julot went on; "how do you get out of that?"
"You can't," the servant answered; "there's no door; you have to comethrough here."
Momentarily becoming more uneasy, Julot scrutinised the long tunnel of aroom at the extreme end of which he was sitting; there was only onemeans of egress, up the narrow corkscrew staircase leading to theground-floor, and at the very foot of that staircase was the tableoccupied by the green man and the man with the guitar.
* * * * *
A plate aimed by Hogshead Geoffroy at Mealy Benoit crashed against theopposite wall. Everyone jumped to his feet, the women screaming, the menswearing. The two market porters stood confronting one another, HogsheadGeoffroy brandishing a chair, Benoit trying to wrench the marble topfrom a table to serve as a weapon. The melee became general, platessmashing on the floor, and dinner things flying towards the ceiling.
Suddenly a shot rang out, but quickly though it had been fired, thegreen man and the man with the guitar had seen who fired it. For thelast few minutes, indeed, these two mysterious individuals had nevertaken their eyes off Julot.
Julot, whom Berthe had supposed from his appearance to be an honestcattle-drover, was undoubtedly a wonderful shot. Having observed thatthe room was lighted by a single chandelier composed of three electriclamps, and that the current was supplied by only two wires running alongthe cornice, Julot had taken aim at the wires and cut them clean in twowith a single shot!
Immediately following upon the shot, the room was plunged into absolutedarkness. A perfectly incredible uproar ensued, men and women strugglingtogether and shouting and trampling one another down, and crockery anddinner things crashing down from the side-boards and tables on to thefloor.
Above the din a sudden hoarse cry of pain rang out, "Help!" andsimultaneously Berthe, who was lost among the mob, heard a mutteredexclamation in her ear and felt two hands groping all over her body asif trying to identify her. The young nurse was the only woman in theroom wearing a hat. Half swooning with terror, she felt herself pickedup and thrust upon a bench, and then someone whispered in a vinousvoice: "You are not to help no. 25, the Rambert woman, to escape."
Berthe was so utterly astonished that she overcame her frightsufficiently to stammer out a question:
"But what--but who----?"
Lower still, but yet more peremptorily, the voice became audible again.
"Fantomas forbids you to do it! And if you disobey, you die!"
The nurse dropped back upon the bench half fainting with fright, and therow in the supper room grew worse. Three men were fighting now, thegreen man being at grips with two at once. The green man did not seem tofeel the blows rained on him, but with a strength that was far beyondthe ordinary he gripped hold of an arm and slid his hands along thesleeve, never letting go of the arm, until he reached the wrist, whenwrenching open the clenched fist he slipped his fingers on to the palmof the hand. A little exclamation of triumph escaped him, andsimultaneously the owner of the hand uttered an exclamation of pain, forthe green man's fingers had touched a still raw wound upon the hollow ofthe palm.
But at that instant his leg was caught between two powerful knees, andthe slightest pressure more would have broken it. The green man wasforced to let go the hand he held; he fell to the ground with hisadversary upon him, and for a moment thought that he was lost. But atthe same moment his adversary let go of him in turn, having been takenby surprise by yet a third combatant who joined in the fray andseparated the first two, devoting himself to a furious assault upon theman whom the green man had tried to capture. The green man passed arapid hand over the individual who had just rescued him from the fierceassault, and was conscious of a shock of surprise as he identified theyoung man with the budding beard; thereupon he collared him firmly bythe neck and did not let him go.
* * * * *
In the crush the combatants had been forced towards the staircase, andat this narrow entrance into the hall bodies were being trampledunderfoot and piercing screams rent the air. Francois Bonbonne had notmade the least attempt to interfere. He knew exactly the properprocedure when trouble of this sort broke out, and he had gone to thecorner of the street and sent the constable on duty there to the nearestpolice station for help. Directly the first gendarmes arrived, FrancoisBonbonne led them behind the counter in the shop and showed them thefire hose; with the skill acquired by long practice, they
rapidlyunrolled the pipe, introduced it into the narrow mouth of the staircase,turned on the tap, and proceeded to drench everybody in the supper roombelow.
The unexpected sousing pulled the combatants up short, separated all thechampions, and drove the howling and shrieking mob back to the far endof the room. The operation lasted for a good five minutes, and when thegendarmes considered that the customers of the Saint-Anthony's Pig weresufficiently quieted down, the sergeant threw the light of a lantern,which the proprietor obligingly had ready for him, over the supper room,and peremptorily ordered the company to come up, one by one.
Seeing that resistance would be futile, the company obeyed. As theyslowly emerged at the top of the corkscrew staircase, meek and subdued,the gendarmes at the top arrested them, slipped handcuffs on them, andsent them off in couples to the station. When the sergeant assumed thatevery one had come out, he went down into the supper room, just to makesure that nobody was still hiding there. But the room was not quiteempty. One unfortunate man was lying on the floor, bathed in his ownblood. It was the man with the guitar, and a knife had been driventhrough his breast!
* * * * *
The couple consisting of the green man and the young man with thebudding beard, of whom his companion had never once let go sinceidentifying him during the fight in the supper room, were taken to thestation. The clerk, who was taking down the names of the prisoners, withdifficulty repressed an exclamation of surprise when the green manproduced an identification card, and whispered a few words in his ear.
"Release that gentleman at once," said the clerk. "With regard to theother----"
"With regard to the other," the green man broke in, "kindly release himtoo. I want to keep him with me."
The clerk bowed in consent, and both men were immediately released fromtheir handcuffs. The young man stared in astonishment at the individualwho a minute before had been his companion in bonds, and was about tothank him, but the other grasped him firmly by the wrist, as though towarn him of the impossibility of flight, and led him out of the policestation. In the street they met the sergeant with a gendarme bringing inthe unfortunate man with the guitar, who was just breathing, and in whomthe officials had recognised a detective-inspector. Without letting goof the youth, the green man bent forward to the sergeant and had a briefbut animated conversation with him.
"Yes, sir, that's all," the sergeant said respectfully; "I haven'tanyone else."
The green man stamped his foot in wrath.
"Good Lord! Gurn has got away!"
* * * * *
Towards the rue Montmartre the green man rapidly dragged his companion,who was trembling in every limb, and utterly at a loss to guess what thefuture held in store for him. Suddenly the green man halted, just underthe light of a street lamp outside the church of Saint-Eustache. Hestood squarely in front of his prisoner and looked him full in theeyes.
"I am Juve," he said, "the detective!" and as the young man stared athim in silent dismay, Juve went on, emphasising each of his words, andwith a sardonic smile flickering over his face. "And you, MademoiselleJeanne--you are Charles Rambert!"
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