Inge tells Pierre of the merciless reception he would have met had the enemies of the Network found him first.
Pierre was filled with a sense of utter dread. It was as if one of his childhood nightmares had retuned to haunt him. He wanted to flee this whole miasma of intrigue and darkness and return to the quiet life he had always known. But, was this possible now.?
Now Read On

In the midst of Pierre's confusion a man put his head around the corner.
"There you are", he beamed, " come along, time to be introduced."

He reached a long arm to Pierre. "Jim Wilson", he announced." I know who you are.
Alphonse spoke of you often. You were his dearest friend and companion. He loved you."
These words spoken by a complete stranger had a salutary effect upon Pierre.The handshake was reassuring in its firm, dry grip as Jim leaned over to plant a kiss on Inge's soft cheek with a "Hiya gorgeous".
Inge spoke softly to Pierre as they followed Jim out to the patio where they were met with a small pattering of applause.
"Jim is- was Alphonse's right hand man. He knew as much about the codes and ciphers as Alphonse did. He must be shattered by this night's news."

Jim held his hand up and they all fell silent. His French was tinged with a British accent.
"Tonight, my friends, we mourn the loss of one of our own.
It is with great sadness that I must advise you that Alphonse Lombard has died. He protected The Network to the last but paid the ultimate price.
He was found by a friend who loved him and whose loyalty and decency I can vouch for."
Jim's tear filled eyes looked blindly out at the assembled people.
"To me" he went on," Alphonse was more than a friend. He was a fellow fighter against the sickening tide of evil that threatens to engulf us.

He was quite simply my brother-in -arms. Together we stood against the child traffickers, the slave trade, the drug runners, the gun sellers.

We made a difference he and I and all our confederates in "The Network", but now he has gone we must find another."

Jim waited a minute or so before continuing as there had been a flutter of hands blessing themselves and from some a softly spoken orison to farewell their fellow cryptographer.

Using the moment to compose himself, Jim's measured voice continued.

"However, the work will go on. The one who made our organization as safe as it is today stands among us at this very moment. He is Pierre St. Cloud."

There was a burst of spontaneous applause that made Inge smile delightedly into Pierre's eyes to be met with an answering grin.
Jim draped a long arm around Pierre's shoulders and stood introducing the people who came up to meet him.
Pierre realized that far from being overwhelmed by all this unusual attention, he was very much at home.
He smiled into their eyes and made some small personal remark to each one, leaving them feeling as though he knew something about them and were intrigued to know what it was.

They were people from all walks of life, and Pierre was surprised to see the organ grinder in the crowd.
There was also a young boy he recognized as one of the lads lounging around the side door of the Post Office.
Pierre smiled back at the boy's sly grin and raised finger.
His name was Charles- Henri and he had been with the Network since he left school.
The young lad had an air about him of quiet confidence, as if he knew what the future would require of him and he was just biding his time.

"One day," he said to Pierre, " I shall be a Master of Ciphers like Monsieur Lombard. Then I shall have an automobile just like his with many lovely ladies to keep me company."

Pierre smiled at Charles- Henri's aspirations, but believed that he would do far more than drive a fast car and drape pretty companions with expensive presents .

There was a slight stir as the monkey from the boulevard landed, with the impact of a falling autumn leaf, on Pierre's shoulder.

He reached up and stroked the tiny head, his long fingers gentle to the mouse-like creature.
It went through his pockets one by one until it found a half a peanut and squeaked its delight.
It sat on his shoulder with the morsel in its little hands, chittering happily.

. When the organ grinder reached out to take the monkey back, it let out a tiny shriek of protest and clung to Pierre's fingers, scolding all the while.

The organ grinder grinned at Pierre and shrugged. "He likes you, Monsieur." He chucked the monkey under its chin and held out his hand ,fingers cupped. He made a soft, shushing noise the little creature imitated and the next thing it settled down to sleep in the big warm hand.
Pierre was charmed by such trusting behaviour.
He gently tucked the tail in and with one finger stroked the tiny head. It was fast asleep.
"Baptiste is never wrong when he chooses his friends. He has chosen you, so I, too will be your friend." Pierre was touched by the swarthy man's words and made a swift rejoinder.
" And I shall be your friend, and a friend to this small one, also."
The response was a white grin under the heavy moustache as a large hand took his and the man announced ,
" I am Jean -Luc Despard. The small one is Baptiste. I found him on the docks in Marseilles one rainy night five years ago.
He saved my life that night and has done so more than once since then, so he is not only my friend but a guardian angel."
Pierre was intrigued at Jean-Luc's words, but made no distinct reply as he noticed a hard faced woman glaring at Jim from the doorway of the veranda.
She looked slightly familiar to Pierre, but was staring at Jim with an expression of utter hatred.

To Be Continued