Chapter 10
THE SECOND ATTEMPT The concierge of Julien's apartments issued with a somewhat mysterious air from his little lodge as his tenant passed through the door. He was a short man with a fierce, bristling moustache. He wore a semi-military coat, always too short for him, and he was so stout that he was seldom able to fasten more than two of the buttons of his waistcoat. "Monsieur!" "What is it, Pierre?" Julien asked. "Any callers for me?" "There have been callers, indeed, monsieur," Pierre replied, "callers whose errand I do not quite understand. They asked many questions concerning monsieur. When they had finished, the man--bah! he was a German!--he thrust into my hand a hundred franc note. He said, 'No word of this to Monsieur Sir Julien!' I put the note into the bottom of my trousers pock
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