ong the elevated horizon of the Rue de
Monsieur le Prince and gave a shrill whistle.

The cab stopped.

Jean bounded up the steps as one endowed with superhuman strength.
Placing his charge within, he mounted by her side.

"Faubourg St. Honore!" he commanded. "And good speed and safe arrival
is worth ten francs to you, my man!"

* * * * *

If Jean had followed his first idea and turned to the left instead of
to the right he would have met some of his late revolutionary comrades
returning, in boisterous spirits, to Le Petit Rouge.

"Parbleu!" exclaimed Villeroy, throwing himself into a chair, "but I
believe every police agent in Paris has trodden on my corns this day!"

"For my part," said young Massard, a thin, pale, indolent young man
scarcely turned twenty-one, "I don't see much fun in being hustled,
shoved, kicked, pounded----"

"But, Armand," interrupted the third man, "think of the fun you have
afforded the other fellow!"

This speaker was known as the double of Jean Marot, only some people
could not see the slightest resemblance when the two were
together,--Lerouge being taller, darker, more athletic in appearance,
and more serious of temper.

"I say, Lerouge, I don't think your crowd of Dreyfusardes got much
pleasure out of us to-day," put in Villeroy, dryly.

"We got some of it out of the police, it is true," said Lerouge. Henri
Lerouge was half anarchist, socialist, and an extremist generally, of
whom French politics presents a formidable contingent.

Armand Massard thoughtfully helped himself to a pipe of tobacco from
the grim tabatiere on the table. Politics was barred at Le Petit
Rouge, and Lerouge was known to be rather irritable. On the subject of
the police these young fellows were unanimous. The agents were
considered fair game in the Quartier Latin.

"I've had enough of them for this once, George," yawned Massard.

"And they've had enough of us probably," suggested Villeroy.

"It is lively,--too much,--this continued dodging the police----"

"Together with one's creditors----"

A loud double rap startled them.

"Mordieu!" exclaimed that young man, leaping to his feet, "that's one
now! Don't open!"

Again the peremptory raps, louder than before. There was also a clank
of steel.

"Police agents or I'm a German!" said Villeroy.

Henri Lerouge, a contemptuous smile on his handsome face, arose to
admit the callers.

"Wait!" whispered Massard,--"one