Through the Wall Part 52

"That's it. Then Tignol, who's watching in one of these doorways, the sly old fox, will come across and join you. Tell him to be ready to move any minute now. He'd better loaf around the corner of the church until he gets a signal from me. I'll wait here. Now go on."

"But let me say--" began the other in mild protest. "No, no," broke in M.

Paul impatiently, "there's no time. Listen! Some one is coming down. Go, go!"

"I'm going, M. Paul, I'm going," obeyed Bonneton, and he hurried across the few yards of pavement that separated them from the cathedral.

Meantime, the step on the stairs came nearer. It was a light, quick step, and, looking up, Coquenil saw Alice hurrying toward him, tense with some eager purpose.

"Oh, M. Matthieu!" exclaimed the girl in apparent surprise. Then going close to him she said in a low tone that quivered with emotion: "I came after you, I must speak to you, I--I know who you are."

He looked at her sharply.

"You are M. Coquenil," she whispered.

"You saw it?" he asked uneasily.

She shook her head. "I _knew_ it."

"Ah!" with relief. "Does _he_ know?"

The girl's hands closed convulsively while the pupils of her eyes widened and then grew small. "I'm afraid so," she murmured, and then added these singular words: "_He knows everything_."

M. Paul laid a soothing hand on her arm and said kindly: "Are you afraid of him?"

"Ye-es." Her voice was almost inaudible.

"Is he planning something?"

For a moment Alice hesitated, biting her red lips, then with a quick impulse, she lifted her dark eyes to Coquenil. "I _must_ tell you, I have no one else to tell, and I am so distressed, so--so afraid." She caught his hands pleadingly in hers, and he felt that they were icy cold.

"I'll protect you, that's what I'm here for," he a.s.sured her, "but go on, speak quickly. What is he planning?"

"He's planning to take me away, away from Paris, I'm sure he is. I overheard him just now telling Mother Bonneton to pack my trunk. He says he will spend three or four days in Paris, but that may not be true, he may go at once to-night. You can't believe him or trust him, and, if he takes me away, I--I may never come back."

"He won't take you away," said M. Paul rea.s.suring, "that is, he won't if--See here, you trust me?"

"Oh, yes."

"You'll do exactly what I tell you, _exactly_, without asking how or why?"

"I will," she declared.

"You're a plucky little girl," he said as he met her unflinching look. "Let me think a moment," and he turned back and forth in the hall, brows contracted, hands deep in his pockets. "I have it!" he exclaimed presently, his face brightening. "Now listen," and speaking slowly and distinctly, the detective gave Alice precise instructions, then he went over them again, point by point.

"Are you sure you understand?" he asked finally.

"Yes, I understand and I will do what you tell me," she answered firmly, "but----"

"Well?"

"It will bring trouble on you. If anyone stands in his way--" She shivered in alarm.

Coquenil smiled confidently. "Don't worry about me."

She shook her head anxiously. "You don't know, you can't understand what a"--she stopped as if searching for a word--"what a _wicked_ man he is."

"I understand--a little," answered Coquenil gravely; "you can tell me more when we have time; we mustn't talk now, _we must act_."

"Yes, of course," agreed Alice, "I will obey orders; you can depend on me and"--she held out her slim hand in a grateful movement--"thank you."

For a moment he pressed the trembling fingers in a rea.s.suring clasp, then he watched her wonderingly, as, with a brave little smile, she turned and went back up the stairs.

"She has the air of a princess, that girl," he mused, "Who is she? What is she? I ought to know in a few hours now," and moving to the wide s.p.a.ce of the open door, the detective glanced carelessly over the Place Notre-Dame.

It was about two o'clock, and under a dazzling sun the trees and buildings of the square were outlined on the asphalt in sharp black shadows. A 'bus lumbered sleepily over the bridge with three straining horses. A big yellow-and-black automobile throbbed quietly before the hospital. Some tourists pa.s.sed, mopping red faces. A beggar crouched in the shade near the entrance to the cathedral, intoning his woes. Coquenil took out his watch and proceeded to wind it slowly. At which the beggar dragged himself lazily out of his cool corner and limped across the street.

"A little charity, kind gentleman," he whined as he came nearer.

"In here, Papa Tignol," beckoned Coquenil; "there's something new. It's all right, I've fixed the doorkeeper."

And a moment later the two a.s.sociates were talking earnestly near the doorkeeper's lodge.

Meantime, Alice, with new life in her heart, was putting on her best dress and hat as Groener had bidden her, and presently she joined her cousin in the salon where he sat smoking a cheap cigar and finishing his talk with Mother Bonneton.

"Ah," he said, "are you ready?" And looking at her more closely, he added: "Poor child, you've been crying. Wait!" and he motioned Mother Bonneton to leave them.

"Now," he began kindly, when the woman had gone, "sit down here and tell me what has made my little cousin unhappy."

He spoke in a pleasant, sympathetic tone, and the girl approached him as if trying to overcome an instinctive shrinking, but she did not take the offered chair, she simply stood beside it.

"It's only a little thing," she answered with an effort, "but I was afraid you might be displeased. What time is it?"

He looked at his watch. "Twenty minutes to three."

"Would you mind very much if we didn't start until five or ten minutes past three?"

"Why--er--what's the matter?"

Alice hesitated, then with pleading eyes: "I've been troubled about different things lately, so I spoke to Father Anselm yesterday and he said I might come to him to-day at a quarter to three."

"You mean for confession?"

"Yes."

"I see. How long does it take?"

"Fifteen or twenty minutes."

"Will it make you feel happier?"