Crittenden press. [volume] (Marion, Ky.) 1879-1907, 1902-07-03
CHAPTER VIII.


the French capital. l always make
my visits to it as brief as possible
then, my business completed, off
fly again, seeming to breathe more
freely when l am outside its boun
daries. don't know why this
should be so, for | have always been
treated with the utmost courtesy and
consideration 10y its inhabitants, par
ticularly by those members of the
French detective force with whom |
have been brought in contact.
On this visit l crossed with one of
the cleverest Partisan detectives, a
man with whom | have had many
/ dealings He was most anxious to
ascertain the reason Of my visit TO
his country. My assurance that
was not in search of any one of his
own criminals seemed TO afford him
no sort of satisfaction. He probab bly,
regarded IL as an attempt 20 put him
off the scent, and | fancy he resent
ed 1t. We reached Paris at seven
o'clock, whereupon l invited him TO
dine with me at eight o'clock, at a
restaurant we had both patronized on
many previous occasions. He accept
ed my invitation, and promised to
meet me at the time and place
named. On the platform awaiting
our arrival was my man Dickson, 10
whom 1 had telegraphed, ordering
him 20 meet me.
"Well, Dickson" said, when had
babe the detective su revoir, what
about our MANI"
1--WE had him under my eye, sir"
he answered. II know exactly what
he's been doing, and where he's stay
ing"
That's good news, indeed" l re-
piled. Have you discovered anything
else about him?"
yes. SIR" he returned. 81 find
that he's struck up a sudden &C
quaintance with a lady named Nine.
Beaumarais, and that they are TO
dine together at the Cafe des Am
bassadeurs tonight. They have been
in and out of half the jewelers. shops
in the Rue de la Paix to-day, and he's
spending a mint of money on her"
They are dining at the Cafe des
Ambassadors tonight, did you say?
At what time?"
Il cannot tell you that, SIR" Dick
son replied. 81 only know that they
are 10 dine there together tonight"
And pray how did you find that
out?"
II made inquiries as TO who she |
was, and where she lived, and then
pumped her maid" he answered
You did not do anything that |
would excite his suspicious, hope"
put in. You ought to know by
this time what women are"
"Oh, no, sir, you needn't be
afraid" he said. 81 was too careful
for that. The maid and l are on
very friendly terms. She believes !
me to be a Russian, and I've not de-
MED it,"
at would be safest not to do So" |
replied. III she discovers that you |
are an Englishman, she might chance /
to mention the fact 10 her mistress. /.
She would doubtless let il fall in |
with him, and then all 1
our trouble would be useless. You /
speak Russian, do you not?"
"Ony pretty well, sir" he an
swered. 81 should be soon bowled /
out if came in contact with a real |
Dne."
"Well, / think will be somewhere |
near the Cafe des Ambassadors to- |
night just to make sure of my man. |
After that I'll tell you what to do |
next"
Every good, sir" he returned. 81
suppose you will be staying at the |
same place."
Eyes, the same place." l replied.
IF you have anything TO communi- J
cate, you can either call, or send |
word TO me there"
] thereupon departed for the quiet |
house at which l usually take up my |
abode when in Paris. The big hotels |
are places l steer clear of, for the |
simple reason that often have bust |
ness in connection with them, and T. |
does not pay me to become too well |
known. At this little house / can go |
OuJ anu tollt III just dS Please, /
have my meals at any time of the |
day or night, and am as well cared |
for as at my own abode in London.
On this occasion the old lady of the
house greeted me with fattering en-
thusiasm. She had received my tele- |
gram, she said, and my usual room
awaited me. / accordingly assembled
to it in order to dress myself for the
dinner of the evening, and as / did |
so thought of the pretty bedroom |
had seen on the previous day, which
led me to think of the
owner of the house, at that moment
my employer. In my minds eye /
could see her just as she had stood
on that old stone bridge at Bishop
stowe, with the sunset behind her
and the church bells sounding across
the meadows, calling the villagers to
evensong. How much better it was,
argued, to be standing talking to
her there in that old world peace,
than to be dressing for a dinner at
an up-to-date French restaurant.
My toilet completed, | descended TO