proprietor of the principal hotel
in the town did recollect having had a visitor of that name once or
twice during the past year. But, of course, during this early stage of
my stay in the town it was impossible for me to believe anything that
I was told. I had not yet succeeded in winning the confidence of the
inhabitants, and it was soon pretty evident to me that the whole
countryside was engaged in the perilous industry of smuggling.
Everyone from the mayor downwards did a bit of a deal now and again in
contraband goods. In ordinary cases it only meant fines if one was
caught, or perhaps imprisonment for repeated offenses.

But four or five days after my arrival at Gex I saw three fellows
handed over to the police of the department. They had been caught in
the act of trying to ford the Valserine with half a dozen pack-mules
laden with English cloth. They were hanged at St. Claude two days
later.

I can assure you, Sir, that the news of this summary administration of
justice sent another cold shiver down my spine, and I marvelled if
indeed Leroux's surmises were correct and if a respectable tradesman
like Aristide Fournier would take such terrible risks even for the
sake of heavy gains.

I had been in Gex just a fortnight when the weather, which hitherto
had been splendid, turned to squalls and storms. We were then in the
second week of September. A torrential rain had fallen the whole of
one day, during which I had only been out in order to meet Leroux, as
usual, at the Cafe du Crane Chauve. I had just come home from our
evening meeting--it was then ten o'clock--and I was preparing to go
comfortably to bed, when I was startled by a violent ring at the
front-door bell.

I had only just time to wonder if this belated visitor desired to see
me or my worthy landlady, Mme. Bournon, when her heavy footsteps
resounded along the passage. The next moment I heard my name spoken
peremptorily by a harsh voice, and Mme. Bournon's reply that M.
Aristide Barrot was indeed within. A few seconds later she ushered my
nocturnal visitor into my room.

He was wrapped in a dark mantle from head to foot, and he wore a
wide-brimmed hat pulled right over his eyes. He did not remove either
as he addressed me without further preamble.

"You are an interpreter, Sir?" he queried, speaking very rapidly and
in sharp commanding tones.

"At your service," I replied.

"My name is Ernest Berty. I want you to come with me at once to my
hous