AN AUDACIOUS CRIMINAL.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LIV, Issue 179, 27 January 1912, Page 10

AN AUDACIOUS CRIMINAL.

COMEDY OP HIS RECAPTURE. Louis Romeuf, a convict whose astounding agility in escaping from the Conciergerie on the morrow of his being sentenced to eight years' penal serviture was one of the sensations of Paris in October, was recaptured the first week of November. His arrest was more like a scene from a comedy than a real occurrence in life. About 10 o'clock he went into a little wineshop in the Rue de Beaune, kept v by a widow named' Madame Comte, and, buying a bottle of wine, sat down to eat his dejeuner. Madame Comte left the shop for a few moments to go into the kitchen; and Romeuf promptly took the opportunity to rifle the till of the sum of £7 10s. Then he calmly continued his breakfast. Two other customers entered the shop, and after serving them Madame Comte returned to her kitchen. The newcomers finished their drinks and left. After they, had gone, Romeuf called the good lady and asked her if the men were good friends of hers. "Why do you ask?" she enquired in surprise? "Oh, merely because one of them went behind the counter and opened a drawer," was the cool reply. "Impossible!" cried the astonished shopkeeper, "because I have the key in my pocket." Nevertheless, she examined the drawer, and found, to her consternation, that 180 francs were missing. "Come on!" crief Romeuf, "let us run after them and we may catch them." And he and madame Comte rushed from 1 the shop and scoured the adjoining streets, but without finding the supposed thieves. Then the poor woman said she would go to the police, and begged Romeuf to accompany her as a witness of the theft. "Certainly," replied the obliging youth, and off they set to the nearest police station. Madame Comte told her sad tale to the commissary's ! clerk, and Romeuf duly corroborated it. Asked for his name and address, Romeuf promptly replied that he was Sylvain Dupuis, residing at 12 Rue de ,I'Universite, with his wife and child. As a matter of form, the magistrate's clerk telephoned the 'police of that district to verify that statement,. and was not a little astonished to her that Sylvain was a bed-ridden cripple and was at that moment in his own house. His face, must have shown surprise, for Romeuf at once said that he was a busy man, and must go and attend to his business. "Wait a moment," said the clerk; "we must firrrt clear up a little mistake about yous name and address." With a bound Romeuf reached the door that he thought led into the street, but alas! it was the door of the Magistrate's private ropm, and before he had time to get out agiiin a couple of policemen had seized, him. ''Now, then, enough of this nonsense," cried the officer; "what is your real name?" "Romeuf—l mean Romain, Romain," replied the convict, taken off his guard. The mention of the name Romeuf was enough, and the man was searched. The first thing found was Madame Comte's silk purse, with the 180f. inside. A knife, a revolver and other things having been taken from him, Romeuf was identified and put into the cells. Phis time he will find it more difficult to slip out of the hands of justice, at least until he finds himself in the tropical latitudes of New Caledonia.