Through the Wall

Through the Wall

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Through the Wall, by Cleveland
Moffett This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and
with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away
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Title: Through the Wall
Author: Cleveland Moffett
Release Date: February 29, 2004 [EBook #11373]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THROUGH
THE WALL ***

Produced by Suzanne Shell and PG Distributed Proofreaders

THROUGH THE WALL
BY
CLEVELAND MOFFETT
AUTHOR OF

THE BATTLE, ETC.
With Illustrations by
H. HEYER
NEW YORK 1909

TO
MY WIFE
AND OUR DELIGHTFUL PARIS HOME IN THE
VILLA MONTMORENCY, WHERE THIS
BOOK WAS WRITTEN
C. M.
NEW YORK, AUGUST 1, 1909.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.
--A BLOOD-RED SKY II.--COQUENIL'S GREATEST CASE
III.--PRIVATE ROOM NUMBER SIX IV.--"IN THE NAME OF THE
LAW" V.--COQUENIL GETS IN THE GAME VI.--THE WEAPON
VII.--THE FOOTPRINTS VIII.--THROUGH THE WALL
IX.--COQUENIL MARKS HIS MAN X.--GIBELIN SCORES A
POINT XI.--THE TOWERS OF NOTRE-DAME XII.--BY SPECIAL
ORDER XIII.--LLOYD AND ALICE XIV.--THE WOMAN IN THE
CASE XV.--PUSSY WILMOTT'S CONFESSION XVI.--THE THIRD

PAIR OF BOOTS XVII.--"FROM HIGHER UP" XVIII.--A LONG
LITTLE FINGER XIX.--TOUCHING A YELLOW TOOTH
XX.--THE MEMORY OF A DOG XXI.--THE WOOD CARVER
XXII.--AT THE HAIRDRESSER'S XXIII.--GROENER AT BAY
XXIV.--THIRTY IMPORTANT WORDS XXV.--THE MOVING
PICTURE XXVI.--COQUENIL'S MOTHER XXVII.--THE DIARY
XXVIII.--A GREAT CRIMINAL XXIX.--THE LOST DOLLY
XXX.--MRS. LLOYD KITTREDGE
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"'We'll show 'em, eh, Caesar?'" "'Alice,' he cried ... 'Say it isn't true'" "'I
want you,' he said in a low voice" "'I didn't _resign_; I was discharged'"
"On the floor lay a man" "'Ask Beau Cocono,' he called back" "'Alice, I
am innocent'" "'Have one?' said M. Paul, offering his cigarette case"
"'There it lies to the left of that heavy doorway'" "'_Cherche!_' he
ordered" "He prolonged his victory, slowly increasing the pressure"
"Gibelin beamed. 'The old school has its good points, after all'" "'I
know why you are thinking about that prison'" "She was just bending
over it when Coquenil entered" "'Did you write this?'" "And when he
could think no longer, he listened to the pickpocket" "'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 Cité,
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