Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-04-19
CHAPTER VIII.
In Paris.

At the end of that time, looking very
brown. q shade thinner, and possessed OF
q knowledge Of the older towns of Nor
mandy which woulda not have dis
graced a guide book, he arrived one
morning at the Care du Nord. During
all this time he had scarcely seen one
familiar face. 1t was an unpleasant
shock for him. as he waited for his bag
gage in the custom house. to realize that
he was being watched from behind pile
Of trunks by the little man who had
shown SO much interest in him at the
Cafe PAthenee on the night he had left
England. The sight somehow annoyed
his late subordinate
What is your name?" he asked, coldly.
You are in the intelligence department,
I believer
MY name is Foster, Sir Julien" the
young man replied after moments hest
tation.
What are you doing over here?'
The young man hesitated.
You Will excuse me, Sir Julien. he
said, slowly. 'but I am responsible only
to the permanent officials in control of
my office. Besides
you can tell me at least how long
you have been in PARISH" Julien inter-
rupted.
"since the night. Sir Julien, when you
came as far as Boulogne."
May ask" Julien demanded. whether
am going to be subject to your es-
pionage?
The young man whose name was Fos-
ter looked blandly at a pile of luggage
which was just arriving.
7 am not at liberty. Sir Julien" he
said, ito explain my Instructions
Julien shrugged his shoulders.
do as you like, Of course. At the
same time. let me tell you that you irri-
as possible. 1t will be better for YOU
Julien turned and left him there. de-
clared his luggage and was driven to a
quiet hotel in the Rue de Rivoli. There
he had bath, changed his clothes and
strolled up the Champs Elysees toward
the Bots. The morning was sunny and
the avenue was crowded with automo-
biles and carriages. He walked steadily
on until he reached the first Of the cafes
in the Bots. He took chair and watched
illness oppressed him, a loneliness of
which he had been scarcely conscious
during this last months wanderings
among the quiet places. Paris had seemed
so different to him on his last visit. He
was surrounded by friends and people
who were anxious to become his friends.
He was IN charge of a difficult mission
which he was conscious of conducting
with skill. Everywhere he was meeting
English people Of his own order, all de-
lighted to see him. all pleased with his
notice. His few days in Paris were mere
ly change in the kaleidoscope from Lon
don. The life-everything else-was the
same. This time he was like a man cast
upon desert island. He sat at his little
table, slipping a glass of vermouth, and
conscious that no man in Paris had fewer
friends. The clubs were closed to him,
there were no official visits to pay, no
calls to make, no familiar faces to look
Tor. He was man who had had his
day. man dfsgraced, a man in whom
the people had lost faith, who was dead
position over carefully from every point
OF view. 1t was ruin. utter and COM
plete. He had disclosed a valuable po-
litical secret to a woman who had not
hesitated to make use of it. Nothing
could be more ignoble. He tried to fancy
for himself some new life under altered
conditions, but everywhere he seemed to
run up against some possibility. some
combination of circumstances which in
cluded share in things which were abb
solutely finished His brain refused to
fashion for him the thought of any life
which could leave outside everything
which had been of account to him up till
now. Even in London, among the work
ing classes, it might have been easier He
remembered those few vivid speeches of
Hendricks. What a gift the man had.
Always he seemed to see big things in
life smoldering underneath the lives of
these ordinary people-big things unsus-
pected, invisible. There was nothing of
the sort to be found here. The only Paris
Julien had ever known was closed to him.
Paris the vicious repealed him instinc-
lively. He was here, he had even looked
forward to coming, but now that he had
arrived there was nothing for him to do
After all. he had better have found some
far-distant corner in Switzerland or Italy.
There was no club for him to go to, no
interest in perusing the newspapers. NO
visits from ambassadors to think about.
The puzzles of his daily life were ended
There was nothing for him to do where
he was but to eat and to drink and to
sleep.
To be continued tomorrow.)