At any rate, they could safely count on the assistance of one individual more valuable to them than anyone; there was a man named Nibet, who, although he intervened but seldom, could, thanks to his influence, save the band many problems. This Nibet held an honourable official position; he was a warder at the Dépôt.

Whilst Mother Toulouche, from the back of her store, was watching with a derisive air the good-natured Cranajour fasten up the teacher’s robe in a prominent position on the front of her nondescript emporium, someone stepped inside, and warmly greeted Mother Toulouche with a:

“Good day, old lady!”

It was big Ernestine, who explained volubly that for a good half hour she had been prowling about near the statue of Henry IV, keeping the store well in view, but not daring to approach until the usual signal had been displayed. Those who frequented the place knew that when the store was under police observation and Mother Toulouche feared a raid she took care to hang out any kind of old clothes; but if the way was clear, if no lurking police were on the look out, then the rallying flag would be hoisted, the flag being the old, patched, stained, musty robe.

Ernestine had arrived looking thoroughly upset.

“Have you heard the latest?” she cried. “The bad news?”“What news? Whose news?” questioned Mother Toulouche.

“Why, that poor Emilet has come down a regular cropper!”

“The poor fellow!... He isn’t smashed up, is he?” Mother Toulouche lifted her hands.

“I haven’t heard anything more than what I’ve told you!” Consternation showed on the faces of the two women.Their good Mimile! He who knew how to take care of himself without leaving a comrade in the lurch, who stuck to them, working for the common good.

A few years previous to this Mimile, having refused to conform to military law, had been arrested in the tavern of a certain Father Korn during a particularly drastic police raid, and the delinquent youth had been straightway put under the penal military discipline administered to such as he. Instead of making himself notorious by his execrable conduct as those in his position generally did, he behaved like a little saint. Having thus made a reputation to trade on, he was twice able to steal the money from the regimental chest without a shadow of suspicion falling on him, and, what was worse, two of his innocent comrades had been accused of the crime, had been condemned and shot in his stead! Owing to his good conduct, Mimile had been transferred to a regiment stationed in Algiers, and having a considerable amount of spare time on his hands, he got into close touch with the aeroplane mechanics.