Pierre weekly free press. (Pierre, S.D.) 1889-19??, 1917-06-14

CHAPTER l.
THE 2srH OF SEPTEMBER.

IER i.
THE 25TH OF SEPTEMBER.
Monsieur Aristide Brisson, the
fat little proprietor of the Hotel
du Nord-a modest house facing
the Place Puget at Toulon
turned nneasily III his sleep, as
though ,fretted by a disturbing
dream then he awoke with a start
and rubbed his eyes. A glance at
the dark windows showed that the
dawn was yet far distant, and he
was about to turn over and go
thankfully to sleep again when a
sudden remembrance leapcd into
his brain. In an instant, he had
bounded from the bed, struck a
match, and, after a look at his
watch, lighted a candle. Then he
returned to the bed, and, without
conjunction, grasped the plump
arm Of Madame Brisson, who was
sleeping peacefully, and shook
her roughly.
"Wake, Gabrielle, wake!" he
cried-in French, Of course.
Madame Brisson, who was also
little and fat with a white skin
that was her pride, opened her
eyes, stared an instant, and then
sat up in bed.
Heavens, Brisson!'' she cried,
her hand to her throat. "What
is it2 What has happened? Have
! you illness7"
"No, no!'' said her husband,
; who vas struggling with his trou-
sers. But rise, quickly!'
Madame Brisson glanced at the
,, dark windows.
II do not understand she
said.
"Ah, Gabrielle" said her hus-
band reproachfully, 81 should
never have believed you could
have forgotten! 1t is today, at
! sunrise, that Il guests depart y,
"Heavens!'s cried Madame
Brisson again, and she, too,
bounded from the bed and began
; to don her clothes with trembling
fingers. ''That | should have for
gotten! Forgive me, Aristide!
What hour is it2"
1T is almost four and a half. At
five, the coffee must be ready: -
1T shall bel" Madame prom
Used, and hurried from the room,
to complete her toilet in the kitch-
en-.
Fortunately" M. Brisson NUT
tered to himself, "the fire is laid!"
Then, having held his collar to
the light and decided that it was
clean enough, he buttoned it about
his neck, attached his shiny ready
made tie, donned his little white
coat, picked up the candle and left
the room. Passing along the cor
ridor to the front of the house, he
tapped at a door.
"Who is there?" called a rough
voice.
Your coffee will be ready in 20
minutes, SIR" said Brisson.
Very well; and thank you,"
answered the voice, and Brisson
descended to the dining room,
opened the shutters, lighted the
lamp, and spread the cloth.
He was contemplating his han
diwork, his head to one side, when
heavy steps sounded on the stair,
and a moment later two men en-
tered. They were both of middle
age, somewhat stocky and heavily
built, their hair close cropped,
their faces smooth shaver and
deeply tanned. They had, indeed,
that indurated look which only
years of exposure to wind and
rain can give, except that their
upper lips we're some shades light
er than the remainder of the face,
betraying the fact that they had,
until recently, been protected by
a moustache. They were dressed
in somewhat shabby tweed walk
ing suits, and wore heavy well
worn shoes. At this moment, each
carried in his hand a little KNAPP
sack.
NJ. Brisson- greeted them bent
double, hoped that they had slept
well, foretold a fine day, and as
snred them that coffee. would be
ready in q moment.
Our bags are in our room,
properly labelled" said one of
them, finding his words with APP
parent difficulty and accenting
them most queerly. They are to
60 to Nice, where we will claim
them"
viii attend to it. And you,