Through the Wall
and of far greater peril to him than the Marseilles trunk drama-in short, a case that ranks with the most important ones of modern police history-would never have been undertaken by Coquenil (and in
position, the reward of a whole career, simply because a girl whom he did not know spoke s
tre-Dame he stopped twice, once at a flower market that offered the grateful shade of its gnarled polenia trees just beyond the Conciergerie prison, and once under the heavy archway of the Prefecture de Police. At the flower market he bought a white carnation from a woman in
ars before and resulted, no one understood why, in his leaving the Paris detective force at the very moment of his glory, when the whole city was praising him f
Coc
e police force for personal reasons, said the newspapers. His health was affected, some declared; he had laid by a tidy fortune and wished to enjoy
n, on the recommendation of the Paris police department, to organize the detective service of a foreign capital, with a life position at the
a red-faced man, with a large purplish nose and a suspiciously black musta
!" he said brisk
inous chuckle, as one who enjoys bad news: "Eh, well enough, M. Paul; but I don't like that." And,
hed the other. "Why, it
objecting nod: "It's too red.
Coquenil's face lighted gail
sudden directness, "don't you remember when we had
look had deepened into o
murders in the
-cis
ound those two poor women stretched out in their white-and-gold salon?
figure as the detective moved across the Place Notre-Dame, snapping his fingers playfully at th
nd the dog answered with eager
ow 'em, eh
s of various saints and angels that overhang the blackened doorway while Coquenil said something to a professional beggar, who straightway disappeared inside the c
gold and a gold-embroidered coat. For all his brave apparel he was a small, mild-mannered p
oquenil, and then, with a quizzic
he other, while he patted the dog a
anxiously, he told of his brilliant appointment in Rio Janeiro and
Brazil! So our friends leave us. Of course I'm glad
my dog, could I?
old Max died. Come, C?sar! Just a moment, M. Paul." And with real emotion the sacristan led the do
sible to know; the fact is he did not remain outside, but, growing impatient at Bonneton's delay, he pushed open the double
gin's shrine was a prie dieu at which a woman was kneeling, but she presently rose and went out, and the girl sat there alone. She was looking down at a piece of embroidery, and Coquenil noticed her shapely white hands and the mas
ame into her face a look so strange, so glad, and yet so frightened that Coquenil went to her quickly with reassuring
f a cracked saucer and whining for pennies. Nothing escaped the hawklike eyes of Mother Bonneton, and now, with growing curiosity, she watched the scene between Coquenil and the candle seller. What interest could
time on her! Now he asks a question and she talks again with that queer, far-away look. He frowns and clinches his hands, and-upon my soul he see
change in Coquenil. All his buoyancy was gone, and he looked worn, almost haggard, a
ered, and as his eyes caught the fires of th
d the sacristan, a
pped abruptly, and, pressing the fingers of his two hands against his forehead, he stroked the brows over his closed eyes as if
aid Bonneton, with visi
detective. "Remember, nine o
e sacristan, following him. "But,
napped out angrily: "
position in
was such black rage in his look that Bonneton cowered away, claspi
re that should have been happy, but that, alas! showed only a rough and devious way stretching before two lovers. And again it was the girl who made trouble, this seller of candles, with her fine hands and her hair and her wistful dark eyes. A strange and pathetic figure she was, sitting there alone in
w stronger. And suddenly, inside a widening green circle, she saw a face, the face of a young man with laughing gray eyes, and her heart beat with joy. She loved him, she loved him!--that was her secret and the cause of her unhappiness, for she must hide her love, especially from him; she must give him some cold word, some e
d?-and then, perhaps, he would misjudge her, perhaps he would leave her in anger and not come back any more. Not come back any m
Jesus votre divin Fils, expirant sur la croi
he ask this inconceivable question and insist on having an answer? His wife! Her cheeks flamed at the word and her heart throbbed wildly. His wife! How wonderful that he should have ch
ce at her hair in a little glass and a touch to her hat, she went out into the garden back of Notre-Dame, where she knew her lover would be waiting. There he was, strolling along the graveled walk near the fountain, switching hi
as a frank, manly face, easily likable. He was a man of twenty-seven, slender of build, but carrying himself well. In dress he had the quiet good taste that some men are born with, besides a willingness to take pains about shirts, boots, an
ent English one of the nonsensical phrases he was fond of using. She tried
something wrong. W
she bega
d she dragon. Come over here and tell me about it." He led h
not know how to meet it. Her red lips trembled, her eyes grew melting, and she sat there silent and delicious in
the fake relics and the white marble French gentleman trying to get out of his coffin. And he didn't care a hang about any of 'em until he saw you. Then he began to take notice. The next day he came back and you sold h
on't," sh
ndles. She had the most beautiful hands in the world, and all day long she sat at
!" sighe
eyes and the hands and the hair ever dropped down at that little table. Nobody could explain it, so the young fellow with
weather," she sa
pout, nothing ahead, and a whole year of-of damned foolishness behind. Excuse me, but that's what it
saint, only a poor girl who saw y
ny good you'll cut out this thing that's been raising hell with you'-excuse me, but that's what it was-'and you'll make a new start, right now.' And I did it. There's a lot you don't know, but you can bet all your rosaries and relics that I've made a fair fight si
a proud, beautiful moment! He loved her, he loved her! Yet she drew her ha
se, and then, with challen
ou-what you want me to be,"
ou to be
kno
you ref
k. Then slowly she nodded, as
up here! You don't mean
nd faced him. "It is true, Ll
why?
tell you," s
her evident distress he checked the words an
she answer
raid to hurt my feelings. I'll make a clean breast of it all, if you say so. God
eve you
,' you look at me out of those won
do," she
ried ... 'Say
of a verse I read," and drawing a small volume from his pocket he turned the p
ad in a low voice: "Je n'aimais qu'el
destin plus aff
ourtant qu'en ce
n lien je fis
ent fois perfi
les maux qu'elle
ddenly, her ey
, you can't think tha
ain he checked himself at the sight of her
I want some encouragement, something to work for. I've got to have it. Just let me go on hoping; say that in six mont
head, while her eyes f
ll never be my wife? Never? No matter w
he repeated wi
said, "or rather I don't understand; but there's no us
supplication. "You won't leave
ring and make me dance? Well, I guess not. Leave you? Of course I'll leave you.
asped, in s
u haven't played fair at all. You knew I loved yo
be judged like that. I have played fair with you. If I hadn't I would
u show it," he ans
ll these months? Isn't
ead. "It isn't
s all I have in life? How about that, Lloyd?" Under their dark lashes her v
in it. I can't stand for this let-me
patiently and gla
gently, "come to t
head. "Got an
ppoin
a ba
in surprise. "Yo
N
moment. "Where
the Champs Elysées, very swell. I didn't
spered, "don't g
des, I wouldn't come to you, anyway. What's the use? I've said all I can, and you've said 'No.' S
gged, "come aft
N
ppen. Don't laugh. Look at the sky, there beyond the blac
of red and purple that crowned the setting sun, something strange and terrifying. And in her agitation she took
" he said, holdi
ull, tired voice, putting down the bo
ked up the volume and his
is?" He looked more closely at
e stammered. "Have I
k, but-how did you
what I wrote," she
y that you don't k
l," she replied wit
k: "See here, I guess I've been too previous. I'll cut out that banquet to-night-that
she murmu
there abo
again her eyes turned anxiousl
Romance
Romance
Romance
Short stories
Werewolf
Romance