Le Caron Again

LE CARON AGAIN.

A CORRESPONDENT of the Evening Telegraph (says the Cork Herald, August 10), has unearthed a recent adventure of the spy, Le Caron, which, while suggesting doubts as to the truth of some of that individual's statements in the witness-box, may furnish a theme for discussion as to the manner in which the British taxpayers' money is expended. A young Chicago lady, travelling from Paris to London on June 15, had for a fellow-passenger on the train and boat a man wearing goggles, who was accompanied by two others who remained at some distance from him. He entered into conversation with the young lady and observed - "You are an American?" "Yes," she replied frankly. "What part of the United States do you live in?" was his next query. "Chicago," was the answer. The man with the goggles started, violently re-echoing the word. Recovering his self-possession he asked if she knew Cronin? "Only from what I have read in the papers," was the response. He then asked a number of questions as to the Church the lady attended, what persons she knew, and the replies all appeared to afford him satisfaction. He became quite confidential, and informed her that he was also from Chicago, and handed her a card bearing the name of Inspector Littlechild and of Scotland Yard. He declared that he was quite homesick. Asked why he did not go back, "Do you really want to know?" he queried in a whisper. "Yes," said she, with some surprise. "Because," said he, in hushed accents, "Cronin's fate would be mine." He then took out his card and handed it to her, saying, "My name is Beach, perhaps you will know me better as Le Caron." The Chicago lady flushed, and at once starting from her chair, scornfully refused the proffered card, seized her handbag and sought another seat. He endeavoured to detain her, saying in a pleading voice, "Will you not sit beside me now?" "No," she said indignantly, "an informer is the most infamous creature on earth," and walked away at once to another part of the boat. A few days after this occurence a Tory evening paper in London published a version of the incident evidently inspired by the spy, in which it was stated that Major Le Caron, discovering Mrs. Alexander Sullivan, of Chicago, in the railway compartment with him en route to London, "dexterously drew her into conversation, and had a good deal of amusement thereby, until he chose to reveal his identity, when she fled screaming and uttering imprecations." This was, of course, a falsehood, Mrs. Sullivan being on her way to America at the time, and being totally unlike the young lady who conversed with Le Caron. It is singular that the informer, who professed to be intimately acquainted with Alexander Sullivan, and to have visited his house, should be totally unacquainted with Mrs. Sullivan's personal appearance, although she was almost continually at her husband's home during the period mentioned by Le Caron. The statement in the Tory paper was evidently made in good faith by the spy, who was quite sure he had been speaking to Mrs. Sullivan. The question remains - who pays for these expeditions, and for the protection the spy is afforded while travelling on such errands?

Source: New Zealand Tablet, Volume XVII, Issue 25, 11 October 1889, Page 29