"M'sieur le Juge!" he cried out, extending his two arms. "Soul of Misfortunes, how shall I tell? He is not there--he is gone--he is escape, that unknown one. When I shall unlock the room and call for Jean Lamareau, the drunkard, at the case before the last, there shall come out of the dimness to me what I shall think is he and I shall bring him here and he shall be fine and dismissed. But, m'sieur, he shall not be Jean Lamareau after all! I shall go now and call for the unknown and I shall get no answer; I shall go in and make of the place light, and there he shall be, that real Jean Lamareau--stripped of his clothes, choked to unconsciousness, alone on the floor, and the other shall have paid his fine and gone!"
A great cry went up, a wild confusion filled the court. The Apaches within rose and ran with the news to the Apaches without; and these, joining forces, scattered and ran through the streets in the direction the escaped prisoner had been seen to take.
But through it all Narkom sat there squeezing his hands together and laughing in little shaking gusts that had a heart throb wavering through them; for to him this could mean but one thing.
"Cleek!" he said, leaning down and shrilling a joyous whisper into Dollops' ear. "But one man in all the world could have done that thing--but one man in all the world would have dared. It was he--it was Cleek! God bless his bully soul!"
"Amen, sir," said Dollops, swallowing something; then he rose at Narkom's bidding and followed him outside.
A minute later a gamin brushing against them put out a grimy hand and said whiningly:
"Boulogne, messieurs. Quai des Anges. Third house back from the waterside; in time for the noon boat across to Folkestone. Give me two francs, please. The monsieur said you would if I said that to you when you came out."
The two francs were in his hand almost as he ceased speaking, and in less than a minute later a fiacre was whirling Narkom and Dollops off to the railway station and the next outgoing train to Boulogne. It was still short of midday when they arrived at the Quai des Anges and made their way to the third house back from the waterside--a little tavern with a toy garden in front and a sort of bowered arcade behind--and there under an almond tree, with a cigarette between his fingers and a bunch of flowers in his buttonhole, they came upon _him_ at last.