'They all swore black and blue that Addison told the truth'"
"A door was opened suddenly and he was pushed into a room"
"'Stand still, I won't hurt you'"
"'There!' he said with a hideous grin, and he handed Tignol the tooth"
"'My dog, my dog!'"
"The confessional box was empty--_Alice was gone!_"
"'You mean that Father Anselm helped her to run away?' gasped Matthieu"
"'No nonsense, or you'll break your arm'"
"'It's the best disguise I ever saw, I'll take my hat off to you on that'"
"'You have ordered handcuffs put on a prisoner _for the last time_'"
"'No, no, no!' he shrieked. 'You dogs! You cowards!'"
"'What's the matter? Your eyes are shut'"
"And a moment later he had carried her safely through the flames"

CHAPTER I

A BLOOD-RED SKY

It is worthy of note that the most remarkable criminal case in which the
famous French detective, Paul Coquenil, was ever engaged, a case of more
baffling mystery than the Palais Royal diamond robbery 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 that event might never have been
solved) but for the extraordinary faith this man had in certain strange
intuitions or forms of half knowledge that came to him at critical moments
of his life, bringing marvelous guidance. Who but one possessed of such
faith would have given up fortune, high position, the reward of a whole
career, _simply because a girl whom he did not know spoke some chance words
that neither he nor she understood_. Yet that is exactly what Coquenil did.

It was late in the afternoon of a hot July day, the hottest day Paris had
known that year (1907) and M. Coquenil, followed by a splendid
white-and-brown shepherd dog, was walking down the Rue de la Cite, past the
somber mass of the city hospital. Before reaching the Place Notre-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 green apron and wooden shoes,
who looked in awe at his pale, grave face, and thrilled when he gave her a
smile and friendly word. She wondered if it was true, as people said, that
M. Coquenil always wore glasses with a slightly bluish tint so that no one
could see his eyes.