Waterbury evening Democrat., 1893-12-16
CHAPTER \.
HAT ITN N. THE NULTURE AND ITS PREY.
IIII- ' ' I1I INI- NNII ITS INEl.
 Just as the party had disappeared into the house a voice was heard on the road outside the gate trolling merry air:

ta7N sAT NAAN IoA AltaSA llAlO the house q voice was heard on the road outside the gate trolling merry air:
 Ouv-icrs, dcpechons,
 Gagnuns biCn notrc argent;
 DcpcChoEs, traVillonS,
 GaGnuns hicn notrc argent,
 and couple of strangers turned into the courtyard of Les Bons Amis.
 It would not have been easy to find a moro disreputable, not to say villainous looking, pair than these new arrivals It was not merely their wretchedly poor appearance, their ragged travel stained garments, but there was that indefina- ble something about them by which the practiced eye nt once distinguishes one of the criminal class from the mere men, dicant
 The first to enter was the singer He lounged in with sort of devil may care swagger, the last words of his song still on his lips. while at the same time he cast rapid glance around, the search ing, somewhat anxious glance of a man who needs to be always on his guard, who looks to find danger lurking in every corner, the glance of man at war with society.
 He was tall man, of thin yet muscu- lar frame, about 50 years of age, his | dark hair thickly sprinkled with gray and in parts almost white. His face was partly hidden by black bandage l which covered one eye and added to the | already sinister expression of his features as well as bringing into still greater prominence the cadaverous color of the skin.
 His features were aquiline, and uo | doubt he had been handsome in his youth 1 before dissipation and crimo and hard | ship had done their work. before his mouth had hardened into those cruel lines or his eyes had learned that ex- | precision of cool, relentless ferocity which brought despair into tho heart of any poor wretch who might chance to | come between him and the object he had in view. In fact. he was the very type | of a cool, remorscless, daring villain, | though at the present moment it suited | him to assume the air of q light hearted vagabond.
 With all that there was a certain sub stratum of refinement about him, the last remnant of earlier associations, an easy | lnsolenCe of manner and an air of one accustomed to command which had it's | effect on the siHple villageois among whom he found himself and overawed | them in spite of his broken shoes and | torn coat. He was dressed in an old brown coat buttoned up tightly, round | his neck was twisted q red cravat, he wore reddish pantaloons and a red | striped waistcoat, remains of a pair of 1 riding boots, and carried on his head a high crowned white hat much dilapi- dated. He carried stick which he twirled on his finger as he advanced into the courtyard with an air of the greatest insouciance, singing another corplet:
 Latendre Annette, Sen seulette,
 Sous la coudrette,
 Chanter le Robin des BoiS.
 His companion. who followed closely behind him as he entered the courtyard, was of quite different type and even less prepossessing. He was a mean, scoundrelly looking little man, with brown hair cropped short, and coarse, repulsive features, whom vice and crime were not in any degree, however small the result of circumstances, but were the inevitable outcome of his nature and instincts. He was the consummate fruit of hereditary degradation. It was nat ural that he should walk behind his stronger and more masterful companion, ! WnOm ne seemed 10 nOlu III COnSlueraDle awe, and it seemed natural, too, that he should carry both their bundles, as he did. He wore gray coat and an odd looking pair of old Wellington boots.
 The leader, as he seemed to be, hay ing taken a seat at one of the tables un- der the tilleuls with an air as if the place belonged to him, his companion followed his example with a frightened air.
 Well" said the tall one, i've are not far from the frontier now. It won't take us long to get over the Jura, and then messieurs les gendarmes may go whis- tle."
 "I wish we were over, Remond,' '' said the other. My blood runs cold every time sec a gendarme, and they have way of looking at one that is not pleasant. I'm sure I don't know what brought you up here. We might have got much more quickly over the from tier"
 "We might have got still more quickly back to the Lyons prison if we had tried to cross just where they were on the lookout for us. Bah! Bertrand, you are only white livered fellow after all" a