[CHAPTER XVI]
CHÉRI-BIBI'S SIMPLE PROGRAMME
The same evening, a few minutes before the arrival of the train from Paris, a man in livery was walking up and down the platform of the railway station at Nice. He wore a cap with a glazed leather peak, which hid from sight one eye, while the other was covered with a large black band wound round his head.
Not only could very little be caught of the man's face, but people might, with good reason, ask themselves whether he was able to distinguish anything himself. Nevertheless his heavy but confident tread bore witness, in spite of the manner in which he was muffled up, to the fact that he retained a clear perception of what was passing round him. He avoided groups of passengers, the porters, the station-master, and even the commissary of police!
When the train entered the station, he posted himself near the way out and imperturbably watched travelers march past him carrying their luggage. Now and again, for he had chosen a somewhat dark corner, he was jostled by the crowd, but he stood stock still as firm as a rock.
Suddenly he stepped forward, thrust out his arm, and laid hold of a remarkably tall, lean man who was wearing an immense, loose overcoat.
The man gave a start and murmured:
"Oh, it's you, Monsieur le Marq——"
The other gave him a dig in the ribs which checked his flow of words and manifestations of pleasure.
"Did you have a pleasant journey, Monsieur Hilaire?" asked the servant, seizing the bag from the hands of the traveler in the flowing overcoat.