olme, "why, your own mother would not know you,
and your father would probably punch me for suggesting that it could be
you."

"That is all right," said the barrister cheerfully. "I will now proceed
to get quietly drunk at the Cafe Noir. Good-bye until seven o'clock
to-morrow morning--perhaps earlier, and perhaps--well, no--until seven
o'clock!"

They shook hands and parted, and not even Brett, the cleverest amateur
detective of his day, could have remotely guessed where and how they
would meet next.

Montmartre by day and Montmartre by night are two very different places.
This Parisian playground, perched high on the eminence that overlooks
the Ville Lumiere, does not wake to its real life until its repose is
disturbed by the lamplighter. Then the Moulin Rouge, festooned with
lamps of gorgeous red, flares forth upon an expectant world. The Cafe de
l'Enfers opens its demoniac mouth to swallow ten minutes' audiences and
vomit them forth again, amused or bored, as the case may be, by the
delusions provided in the interior, whilst other questionable resorts
shout forth their attractions and seek to beguile a certain number of
sous from the pockets of sightseers.

The whole district is a place of light and shade. It is artificial in
every brick and stone, in the pose of every stall, the lettering of
every advertisement. And it flourishes by gaslight; by day it is garish
and forlorn.

Prominent among the regular houses of entertainment was the Cabaret
Noir, which, between the hours of 9 p.m. and 1 a.m., usually drove a
roaring trade. Situated in the heart of a mountebank district, its
patrons embraced all classes of society, from the American tourist with
his quick eyes noting the vagaries of demi-mondaines, to the
sharp-witted Parisian idler, on the alert for any easy and dishonest
method of obtaining money which might present itself.

Among such a crowd a wine-sodden and decrepit old man was not likely to
attract particular attention.

He sprawled over the table close to one of the windows which commanded a
view of the side passage leading to the rear of the building. Although
none of the noisy crowd in the cafe could suspect the fact, the
half-closed eyes of this elderly drunkard noted the form and features of
every individual who entered or left by the main door, whilst at the
same time he paid the utmost possible attention to the comings and
goings of any person who used the passage by the window.

To facilit