all fear of pursuit. He would do
this and that; he would have recourse to this ruse, he would take that
precaution. Useless forethought! Now, nothing he had imagined seemed
feasible. The police were seeking him, and he could think of no place in
the whole world where he would feel perfectly safe.

He was near the Odeon theatre, when a thought quicker than a flash of
lightning lit up the darkness of his brain.

It occurred to him that as the police were doubtless already in pursuit
of him, his description would soon be known to everyone, his white
cravat and well trimmed whiskers would betray him as surely as though he
carried a placard stating who he was.

Seeing a barber's shop, he hurried to the door; but, when on the point
of turning the handle, he grew frightened.

The barber might think it strange that he wanted his whiskers shaved
off, and supposing he should question him!

He passed on.

He soon saw another barber's shop, but the same fears as before again
prevented his entering.

Gradually night had fallen, and, with the darkness, Noel seemed to
recover his confidence and boldness.

After this great shipwreck in port, hope rose to the surface. Why should
he not save himself? There had been many just such cases. He could go to
a foreign country, change his name, begin his life over again, become a
new man entirely. He had money; and that was the main thing.

And, besides, as soon as his eighty thousand francs were spent, he had
the certainty of receiving, on his first request, five or six times as
much more.

He was already thinking of the disguise he should assume, and of the
frontier to which he should proceed, when the recollection of Juliette
pierced his heart like a red hot iron.

Was he going to leave without her, going away with the certainty of
never seeing her again? What! he would fly, pursued by all the police
of the civilized world, tracked like a wild beast, and she would remain
peaceably in Paris? Was it possible? For whom then had he committed this
crime? For her. Who would have reaped the benefits of it? She. Was it
not just, then, that she should bear her share of the punishment?

"She does not love me," thought the advocate bitterly, "she never loved
me. She would be delighted to be forever free of me. She will not regret
me, for I am no longer necessary to her. An empty coffer is a useless
piece of furniture. Juliette is prudent; she has managed to save a
nice little fortune. Gr