ary halt gave a couple of alert agents a
chance to scrutinize him a little more sharply than was comfortable,
and turned down Boulevard St. Germain.

At the Ecole de Medecine Jean stopped the cab, as if struck with a new
idea.

"Cocher!"

"Yes, monsieur?"

"Drive to 12 Rue Antoine Dubois."

"How then!"

"I said--drive--to--No. 12--Rue Antoine Dubois! You know where that
is?"

"Oh, yes, monsieur,--only--er--it is right over there opposite
the----"

The man was so excited he found difficulty in expressing himself.

"Ecole Pratique,--that's right," said Jean.

Hardened sinner that he was, the old Paris coachman crossed himself
and, as he entered the uncanny neighborhood, felt around for the
sacred amulet that every good Frenchman wears next to the skin.

"I must get some instruments there before taking this lady home," Jean
added.

The Rue Antoine Dubois is a short street connecting the Rue et Place
de l'Ecole de Medecine with the Rue de Monsieur le Prince. One side of
it is formed by the gloomy wall of the Ecole Pratique, where more
"subjects" are disposed of annually than in any other dozen similar
institutions in the world; the other by various medical shops and
libraries, over which are "clubs," "laboratories," "cliniques," and
student lodgings. At the Rue de Monsieur le Prince the street ends in
a great flight of steps. It therefore forms an impasse, or a pocket
for carriages, and is little used. It was now deserted.

The coachman drew up before a dark court entrance, a sickly light
shining upon him through the surgical appliances, articulated
skeletons, skulls, and other professional exhibits of the nearest
window.

"Let us see; I'll take her up-stairs and make a more careful
examination."

"You--you're a doctor, monsieur?"

"Yes,--there!" He gave the man a five-franc piece. "No,--never mind
the change."

"Merci, monsieur!"

"Better wait--till I see how she is, you know."

Jean bore his burden very carefully till out of sight; then threw it
over his shoulder and felt his way up the half-lighted stairs. He knew
quite well that the man would not wait; believed that the overpayment
would induce him to get away as quickly and as far as possible.

"It's a stiff, sure!" growled the nervous cabman, and he drove out of
the place at a furious rate.

Jean threw his "subject" on the floor and hunted around for a light.

"Le Petit Rouge"--its frequenters were medical students and political
extrem