The word "spy" being obnoxious in all languages and at all times and in all places, the myriad smaller particles of the Secret System were called "Agents."
The Paris "agent" of this class has, happily, no counterpart in the American government. Our "detectives," or "plain clothes men," are limited to legitimate police duties in the discovery of crime and prosecution of criminals. They are known, are borne on pay-rolls, usually have good character and some official standing.
The Paris "agent" is a widely different individual, speaking of that branch not in uniform and not regularly employed on routine work. This class is formed of government employés, all persons holding government licenses of any kind, all keepers of public-houses and places of public resort subject to government inspection, returned convicts under police surveillance, criminals under suspension of sentence, all persons under the eye of the police subject to arrest for one thing or another, or who may be intimidated.
Add to these the regular service men and women, then bear in mind that the names of all "agents" are secure from public knowledge, even of a military court, that they can stab in the dark and never be held accountable by their victims, and that appropriations are made in bulk for this service without an accounting, and you will then understand the full strength and appreciate the unique infamy of the French Secret System.
Inspector Loup had finished his inspection of the childish figure before him and was compelled to break the ice.
"Well, what do you want?" finally inquired the inspector, in a tone that clearly implied that, whatever it was, she would not get it.
Another awkward silence, during which each coolly surveyed the other.
"Of what good is it to speak?" she asked, simply,--"monsieur knows."
This child was breaking the record. Inspector Loup contemplated her petite personality once more. Here was a rare diplomate.
"You come from Nantes. No; you don't remember. You were picked up in the streets by the Podvins and have been living with them ever since. Fouchette is the name they gave you. It is not your real name. You are ostensibly a ragpicker, but are the consort and associate of thieves and robbers and assassins, who have used you as well as abused you. You are suspected to be a regular go-between for these and the receivers of stolen goods."