time, Bérard bent over and carefully substituted them for those he had just produced.
After feeling in both pockets of the sleeping man's vest, as if to reassure himself that nothing remained, Pierre commenced to rebutton the overcoat. While so engaged Chavoix stirred uneasily and uttered a grunt, but a moment afterwards he subsided again into the dull, heavy slumber of intoxication, thus allowing the expert pickpocket to accomplish his task.
As the cab rumbled down Villiers Street, Bérard grasped him roughly by the shoulder, exclaiming in French—
"Wake up, old fellow. Come; pull yourself together."
Starting, rubbing his eyes, and with a muttered and husky, "Pardon, messieurs," he commenced a profuse apology for sleeping in their company. This, however, was suddenly interrupted by the vehicle coming to a standstill before the station.
The four men alighted, and Holt, after a brief consultation with Bérard, took first-class tickets for West Brompton.
Pierre's arm afforded Chavoix a friendly aid as they descended to the platform ; for, although the latter was not sufficiently inebriated to attract attention, yet his equilibrium was slightly disarranged.
When the train drew up they entered an empty first-class compartment, and continued their journey west-ward, a decidedly jovial quartette.
On leaving the next station, Westminster, Pierre remarked that he had developed a great thirst, and, curiously enough, Holt immediately produced a nickel travelling flask filled with brandy, which he held up triumphantly. Amid the laughter which followed an assertion of Chavoix' s, to the effect that priests always
