A Nest of Spies: Fantômas Saga. Marcel Allain

The corporal's leave did not expire till the evening of the following day. Nichoune offered him hospitality: they became lovers.

      Vinson's heart was in this liaison: he persuaded himself that the chain that bound them was indissoluble. The singer's idea was to profit by it. Her demands for money were constant: she harried her lover for money.

      Little by little, Vinson's mother cut off supplies: the corporal, incapable of breaking with Nichoune, ran up debts in the town.

      "But," went on Vinson, "this is only the beginning. I have told you this, Monsieur, with the hope of excusing myself to a certain extent for what I did later on. My actions were the outcome and consequences of my difficulties."

      "Something serious?" questioned Fandor.

      "You shall judge of that, Monsieur."

      Vinson went on with his confession in a firmer tone. Fandor realised that the corporal had decided to make a clean breast of it.

      "It sometimes happened after I had had a scene with Nichoune, and had quitted her in a fury, that I would go for a long bicycle ride into the country, taking my shame and rage with me. On a certain Saturday, bestriding my faithful bike, I went for a spin along the dusty high-road which runs past the camp. After going at high speed, I dismounted, seated myself under a tree in the shade, by the side of a ditch, and was falling asleep. It was summer, the sun was pouring down. A cyclist stopped in front of me with a punctured tyre. He asked me to lend him the wherewithal to repair it; and whilst the solution was drying we started talking.

      "This individual was about thirty; elegantly dressed; and from the way he expressed himself, one could see that he was a man accustomed to good society.

      "He told me he was making a tour, and was now doing the neighbourhood about Reims and Châlons.

      "'Not very picturesque country,' I remarked.

      "But he retorted;

      "'It is interesting — the roads, for example, are complicated!'

      "I began to laugh at this, and as he insisted on the difficulty he had to find his way in these parts, I offered to let him look at my Staff-office map. I carried a copy in my blazer.... Ah, Monsieur — how well Alfred played his little comedy! That is what he called himself, at least, that was the name he was known by — the only name I have ever known. He seemed absolutely stupefied at the sight of this map, ordinary though as it was, and seemed set on buying it from me. I did not want to part with it. He offered five francs for it. I expressed my astonishment that he would not wait till he got to Châlons, where he could procure one like it for the sum of twenty sous.

      "'Bah!' declared Alfred, 'It gives me pleasure to pay you that sum — it is a way of thanking you for having lent me the use of your cycle outfit.'

      "My faith, Monsieur Fandor, I was too beggared to say 'No!' so I accepted the money, while making excuses for myself: my plea being that a soldier is not a rich man.

      "I pass over details. It is sufficient to say that when we returned to Châlons together, we were such good friends that he asked me to dine with him. When he saw me back to barracks, Alfred pressed a loan on me. I had told him about Nichoune, and about the pecuniary difficulties I was in, for by this time, I had full confidence in him. He slipped a twenty-franc piece into my hand with an air of authority: 'When you become a civilian again,' said he, 'you will easily be able to pay me back; and besides, to salve your pride, I am going to ask you shortly to do me a few services. I often have little things done. I shall entrust the doing of them to you, and shall pay you accordingly.'...

      "You understand, Monsieur Fandor, that there was no reason for refusing, that I could see, especially as he made the offer very nicely, and that it came in the nick of time, at the very moment when — I have to admit it — I would have done anything for money....

      "After this we met frequently. Alfred used to send me invitations, and often he included Nichoune. He never would let me pay for anything; and, I must confess, that the greater part of the time I should have found it very difficult indeed to pay a sou!

      "We always met at some appointed place outside the town: he would not stay in Châlons longer than he could help, because he said the air there was bad for his delicate lungs. He was particularly interested in aviation, and he was for ever getting me to pilot him about the aviation camp.

      "'You who draw so well,' he would say; 'make me a plan of this apparatus!... Explain to me how these huts are constructed!'

      "He would question me as to the effectives of the regiments, ask me details as to estimates, statements, and returns which passed through my hands in the offices.

      "Finally, one day, as I had no inkling of what he was really aiming at, Alfred put me on to it!"...

      The corporal stopped. His throat was strained and dry.

      Fandor brought him a glass of water, which he swallowed at a gulp. With a grateful look he continued:

      "'Vinson,' said Alfred to me, 'I have confidence in you, and you know how discreet I am! Very well, I have a superb piece of business in hand which ought to bring us in a great deal of money. A stranger with whom I came into contact recently, who is a very good fellow, who has been obliged to leave his country owing to troubles that were brought on him, possesses a document, a very interesting one, which would be much valued at the Staff Headquarters of the Sixth Corps. He needs money and would be willing to sell it. I tried to buy it from him, but I have not the necessary funds. I was seeking a solution of the difficulty, when this stranger asked me to procure him some photographs of the Châlons barracks, in exchange for which he would give me his document. He needs these photographs for postcard purposes. If we could supply him with them in three days, not only will he give us his important paper, but he will pay twenty francs for each proof as well!'

      "Ah, Monsieur Fandor, this story did not hang together, but I was actually weak enough to believe it! Or at least I tried to make myself believe it. Besides, this proposal of Alfred's came just in time: I had not a sou to my name! Nichoune was making a terrible row, and I hardly dared venture into the streets, I had so many creditors.

      "I tried to square matters with my conscience: telling myself that there was nothing compromising connected with these photographs: in fact, views of our barracks are to be found in any album on sale, however small.

      "Later on, I learned that this was a method they employed to decoy the guides, to draw them securely into their toils. They first of all give them very insignificant things to do, in order not to frighten them, and pay a high price: it is afterwards that they fasten you up tight. You shall see how."...

      Fandor nodded. It was nearly time to catch the train, but he thought no more of the Côte d'Azur! He was too interested in the corporal's confession, and felt that by letting him speak he would learn more, he would learn much. He therefore encouraged Vinson to continue. The corporal asked nothing better.

      "The photographs taken, I rejoined Alfred, who had told me to be sure to get leave for forty-eight hours, whatever happened. Alfred dragged me to the railway station; he had two tickets. We went off to Nancy, where, said he, we should find the purchaser. At Nancy, no one; whoever it was, had gone to a street in one of the suburbs. We waited in a little flat. Towards four in the afternoon Alfred said to me: 'Bah! Don't let us hesitate any longer. If the stranger has not come, it is because he is waiting for us elsewhere — I know where — let us go to meet him — at Metz!"

      "'At Metz!' I cried. 'But we should have to cross the frontier, and I have not ...'

      "Alfred interrupted me, laughing. He opened a press and brought out civilian clothes, then he took wigs from a drawer, and a false beard. At the end of half-an-hour we were disguised; an hour later we were in Lorraine. We left the train there. It was there that, for the first time, I began to be afraid, for it seemed to me that when leaving the station at Metz, Alfred exchanged a quick glance with the policeman on duty. Ah, Monsieur Fandor, how I have regretted this journey! Directly we were in a foreign country, Alfred's attitude towards me changed: he was no longer the friend, he was the master. He had got me, the rogue, and jolly tight too!

      "'Where