The business of the _mouton_ is one of great danger, and calls for considerable address. Detection or even suspicion that a man is so employed enforces him to vindictive retaliation. He may expect sooner or later to be roughly handled, probably murdered. These are the individuals who share the cell of the accused on purpose and draw him into conversation and unguarded admissions, which will be brought in evidence against him, or they help the judge in his line of interrogatories, the French method of prosecution. There is a larger class of _moutons_ known in prisons as the _musique_, composed of all who from the moment of arrest are prepared to confess their evil deeds, name their associates and reveal their whereabouts and how they might be taken. Often the _musiciens_ are retained on the service of the police, and inhabit a prison for months together, or so long as they can be useful during a protracted trial. The baseness of the average _mouton_ is almost inconceivable. No ties of blood or association are respected. Brother will denounce brother, a father his son. Cauler tells a story of a young thief, who interested him and whom, after receiving much valuable information from him, he permanently engaged as a _musicien_. One day another prisoner came to the chief of police to give him some facts about his young protégé. The latter had confided to him that he knew a certain way to effect his escape, if he could only lay his hands on a substantial sum of money. “You can get it for me, if you choose. When you are released go to the banking house of Monsieur ----. My father is the cashier, and keeps his safe on the entresol, first door to the right. He is always alone between four and five of an afternoon, making up his accounts. Ring the bell, and when he opens the window say you came from me, and have a particular message for him. He will be sure to admit you, and directly you enter stab him in the heart. You will find his keys in his inner breast pocket. Open the safe, take out all the cash, keep half, and let me have the rest when next we meet.” M. Cauler was greatly horrified, and sent at once for his _musicien_, whom he taxed with this supposed crime. The lad tried to deny it, but was confronted with his intended accomplice, and confessed. “Take him away,” cried the indignant police officer, “never let me see him again.”