n held out his hands.

A new fifty-franc note fell into them.

"What do you say to that? Is it not a good--a perfect imitation?" The
red-bearded young man's tone was triumphant.

Fandor-Vinson examined it.

"That it certainly is," he acquiesced.

"Here are more!... Look!... Take them!"

Nine notes fell into the outstretched hands of Corporal Fandor-Vinson
of the 257th of the line, stationed at Verdun.

Our journalist had sharp eyes. He was no longer puzzling over this
performance.

"Look here, Corporal! Keep these notes if they amuse you!" said the
red-bearded young man, smiling.

"You might even try to pass them off, if the joke appeals to you!"

Fandor's replies were monosyllables: he was watching the machine.

"What a childish trick!" he said to himself: "Why, these notes dropped
into my hands are real!... This machine does not print anything!... My
new friend has slipped these notes under the rollers as payment for
future treachery, expected betrayals--it is a way of paying me!"

Corporal Fandor-Vinson found the necessary words to show he fully
understood the quality of the payment--its real value. Supposing that
no more would be required of him, he tried to get free of this spy,
and leave the premises, but his red-bearded paymaster had other views.

"Now, Corporal," said he, "shall we empty a bottle together in honour
of our meeting?"

Fandor was far from wishing to clink glasses with the spy: still,
needs must when the devil drives you into a tight corner of your own
choosing! The offer was accepted with feigned pleasure. Corporal
Fandor-Vinson kept a smiling face, whilst, glass in hand, he talked
trivialities with his host.

At last Corporal Fandor-Vinson rose:

"My leave has not expired, it is true, Monsieur," he said, "but I have
some rounds to make. Pray excuse me!"

The thin, red-bearded young man did not seek to detain him. The
interview was at an end: the business done for that evening.

"You will return, will you not, Corporal?" asked his host. "We are at
your disposal, I and my brother, whenever you have need of us--our
friends also. They will regret having arrived too late to meet you!...
And, Corporal ... we know some officers--if you want leave now and
again--you must let us know--will you not?"

Corporal Fandor-Vinson said the expected things, and hastened away,
glad to be quit of this red-bearded young spy of a printer. He hurried
off towards the centre of the town, covering h