I
recognized only one face in the cafe--that of a dangerous character,
Jean Sach, who had narrowly escaped the electric chair in the United
States and who was well known to the Bureau. He was smiling at one of
the two women--the woman to whom the Algerian seemed to be more
particularly addressing himself.
Another there was in the cafe who interested me as a student of
physiognomy--a dark, bearded man, one of the card-players. His face
was disfigured by a purple scar extending from his brow to the left
corner of his mouth, which it had drawn up into a permanent snarl,
so that he resembled an enraged and dangerous wild animal. Mentally
I classified this person as "Le Balafre."
I had just made up my mind to depart when the man Sach arose, crossed
the cafe and seated himself insolently between the Algerian and the
woman to whom the latter was talking. Turning his back upon the brown
man, he addressed some remark to the woman, at the same time leering
in her face.
Women of this class are difficult, you understand? Sach received from
the lady a violent blow upon the face which rolled him on the floor!
As he fell, the Algerian sprang up and drew a knife. Sach rolled away
from him and also reached for the knife which he carried in a
hip-pocket.
Before he could draw it, Miguel, the quadroon proprietor, threw
himself upon him and tried to pitch him into the street. But Sach,
although a small man, was both agile and ferocious.
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