In this paved street embalmed on the night, only the light of the candles of streetlights lights puddles between wet stones. No noise, no presence. Everything seems quiet at this hour. But far off, a banging resounds. Noises of heels echo on stony walls. A man moves forward in the street. Dressed in black, he has difficulty in moving forward under his heavy marine cape, his top of form and his elegant suit. His small sharp shoes with heels mark the rhythm of its slight limp. He was of use a cane to palm to help him to move forward. His face is hidden by the black.
He moves forward in the center of street of a steady rhythm. His cape opens on his suit and its white shirt. He returns from the poor's areas ravaged by the disease. Is he a doctor? A noise behind him, a trash can fall. He observes the lid running on the ground: it is only a cat. He recovers on the way and turns in a street going towards the political center. Here he is arrived in front of the big wrought iron black railings lining the white building. The safety was strengthened since a fire ravaged this place. He continues his way along railings and arrives in front of a bar built with a wall of bricks. He stops in front of it and looks at a wanted notice stuck here. He tightens his gloved hand and tears it away to look at it in the light of a lamppost.
"Wanted, Master Gold accused of kidnapping children on multiple occasions. To indicate to the authorities. Reward dead or alive. Watch out, dangerous man."
He looks far off. A black and thick smoke seems to get free of the small port. He restarts more quickly and crosses three districts leading to quays. He go forward on the small wooden bridges and stops in front of an old building of the merchant navy. He stops and looks at the end of quays. A man is at the other end. Standing. They observe each other as waiting for a sign, a mere nothing which would allow to them to react. But the man opposite does not move. The unknown fact a step backwards on the acrid ground and rushes into an alley, disappearing from the view of all.
A few moments later, he considers in front of an inn for sailor. The smoke escapes of one that worked. He looks at the sign then at windows: none lights. He takes out then a bunch of keys of below his coat and slide one of them in the lock. A small click and the door opens. He goes in this inn as if he knew her by heart. In some steps, he arrives in what seems to be a lounge. The fireplace burns with a blazing fire. He approaches and throws the poster of wanted notice to the fire before seeing a woman put asleep on an armchair. Her dark hair falls in waterfall on her shoulders, her round stomach there. The eyes of the man open gigantic. The colour hazelnut which filled its pupils is fired lit by flames. He turns around towards the fireplace, puts out the fire and goes back up the cover which wrapped the legs of the woman on her shoulders. Behind him a noise of rifle in refill is listened. He moves back and stumbles on piano, so flying a disagreement of notes. He hears outside a car to approach, dogs to bark and two lighthouses to light windows.
He does not plan be arrested now. He recovers slowly, catches his cane of a hand and a vase of flowers of other than he launches it on his opponent, the shot leaves to the ceiling. The woman who slept there wakes up all of a sudden to see the man throwing itself through the window, he lands on pavements and turns around enlightened by lighthouses, two enormous barking dogs. Two steps advance on him and calm dogs. He observes the face of this woman wrapped with a fur. She smiles to him derisively.
A few seconds later, they drive both through streets, the woman managing her racing car in a very dangerous way. The man is held to the car doorwoman, being afraid of an accident. Behind them, a police car pursues them. The man looks behind him, the car gets closer. He considers lost, but in front of them, the fireplace of a train resounds, the grade crossing is not far. The train takes shape in its smoke, the woman accelerates, the train gets closer, the man hangs on more hardly to his handle, the back car sticks them almost but they cross the grade crossing and the train strikes the police car. It is cornered on the edge while the train passes. Both passengers of the car recover on the way more slowly to recover of these strong, quite key feelings switched off.
The car stops in a poor alley of districts. The man goes out; greet politely by holding his hat and closes the door. Slowly, the car goes away in the mist. He observes it leaving and restarts slowly. He turns in an alley and lands in front of a mountain of staircases. He goes up them with difficulty and stops along the way, hearing a weak shout. He looks at the street in periphery where from comes the noise. He rushes leaving his cape behind him. He moves forward stealthily watching for this noise of an attentive ear. The more he moves forward and the more it becomes clear. It is a child, a crying baby. He arrives finally under the window. He goes up his head on the wall and observes the window where from comes the noise. Is not there anybody? Apparently no and for a very good reason: this house is the sheriff's, policemen which chased him earlier. A derisive smile takes shape on its mouth where sleeps a scar on its upper lip. He takes out his bunch of keys and unbolts the door, but, it is blocked by wooden boards on the other side. He moves back and reconsiders the spot: a gutter, bricks, two edges of window, some mouldings. He finds his way. He holds his gloves to make sure that they are put well and begin his trip.
He rises on the windowsill of the ground floor and hangs on to the mouldings above this one. He raises itself by growing with his feet and clings to a taken out again brick. Suspended above the space, he seizes the gutter on side and raises itself by putting his foot on the brick. The sky covers itself. He catches the edge of the second window and gets out up to the second floor. The sky is black, the rain is soon going to fall. He squats on the edge, serves the fist and breaks the window. He quickly penetrates into the room and sees the wife of the sheriff cherishing his baby. She moves back in the clairvoyant, a stripe of flash of lightning illuminates him briefly. She moves back up to the chest of drawers and gets out of it a pistol. He takes out a blade of his sleeve and catcher to the wood varnished behind her. His baby sleeps in her arms, she cannot put him. He moves forward slowly, takes her child of arms, looks at him by rocking him a little. "Child …" murmurs of a warm voice. A new flash of lightning streaks has room. He raises eyes on the woman, put a finger one his lips "shhhh" he says, laughs and leaves by getting back his blade, while the screams of the woman tear the room in half.
Here it is turning darker through streets by tightening against him the small hot body. He arrives in the ruined districts and begins again his small movements of climbing, rocking to the right to the left, rising on a facade, tossing from a rope. He arrives finally in front of a wooden door, the child always tightened against him. He penetrates into the apartment and close carefully behind him. He moves forward to a desk by going in the most complete black. He puts the baby on the desk and lights a candle by striking a match. The closed shutters hardly allow to pass a rare white light. The man removes his top of shape, his heavy cape and his enormous scarf. The face appears, a long fine nose, a small look, a prominent lower lip and long hair were strewed with white drills. He pulls again at its gloves and enlightens his room with other candles. The room appears then, of numerous sheets of wanted notice, covered papers deletions, index cards on everything, the inhabitants of the city, the numerous clothes for children and the walls covered with writings of which "Neal". He turns to the child whom he approaches a grave air, his heavy steps make creak the parquet. He looks at him of all his height and brings out of a box a sheet of medicine on the human heart. He puts a magnifying glass above the child and the fate of small objects of medicine dangerously by dealing with the child.
He opens eyes. In front of his desk, the short hair on his crane. An image of his son on his perfectly tidied up desk, just like the room behind him. Everything seems quiet. He looks at the room and gets up. One day, he should concoct a remedy for the sleep. He rose to the floor and looked at an image of his wife, this woman in the round stomach in the inn. He skips into his bed and is allowed submerge by the sheet. I thinks a little. The animal in him did not have to show itself any more, not even in its nightmares.