affectionately before curling down
closely as possible by her side.

Now, Monsieur Podvin's business, ostensibly, was that of keeping a low
cabaret labelled "Rendez-Vous pour Cochers." It might have been more
appropriately called a rendezvous for thieves, though this seems
rather hypercritical when one knows the cabbies of the barriers. But
the cabaret was really run by Madame Podvin, which robs monsieur of
the moral responsibilities.

As a matter of fact, Monsieur Podvin was a mighty hunter, like Nimrod
and Philippe Augustus, and other distinguished predecessors. His field
of operations was the wood of Vincennes, where Philippe was wont to
follow the chase some hundreds of years ago, and wherein a long line
of royal chasseurs have subsequently amused themselves.

With the simple statement that they were all hunters and robbers, from
Augustus to Podvin, inclusive, the resemblance ends; for the nobles
and their followers followed the stag and wild boar, whereas Monsieur
Podvin was a hunter of men.

At first blush the latter would appear to be higher game and a more
dangerous amusement. Not at all. For the men thus run down by Monsieur
Podvin and his faithful dog, Tartar, were little above the beasts from
self-indulgence at any time, and were wholly devoid of even the
lowest animal instincts when captured. They were the victims of their
own bestiality before they became the victims of Podvin.

Every gala-day in the popular wood of Vincennes left a certain amount
of human flotsam and jetsam lying around under the trees and in the
dark shadows, helpless from a combination of wood alcohol and water
treated with coloring matter and called "wine." It was Monsieur
Podvin's business to hunt these unfortunates up and to relieve them of
any valuables of which they might be possessed, and which they had no
use for for the time being. It was quite as inspiriting and ennobling
as going over a battlefield and robbing the dead, and about as safe
for the operators. The intelligence of Tartar and his indefatigable
industry lent an additional zest to the hunt and made it at once easy
and remunerative. Tartar pointed and flushed the prey; all his master
had to do was to go through the victims, who were usually too helpless
to object. If, as was sometimes the case, one so far forgot himself as
to do so, the sight of a gleaming knife-blade generally reconciled the
victim to the peaceful surrender of his property. On special occasions
M