narrow circle--so I guessed at least, for I never wandered far from the
deep-toned bell of Notre Dame, that went on chanting its melancholy peal
through the stillness of the night air. I often stopped to listen. Now
it seemed before, now behind me; the rich solemn sound floating through
those cavernous streets had something awfully impressive. The voice
that called to prayer, heard in that gloomy haunt of crime, was indeed
a strange and appalling thing. At last it ceased, and all was still. For
some time I was uncertain how to act. I feared to knock at a door and
ask my way; the very confession of my loneliness would have been an
invitation to outrage, if not murder. No one passed me; the streets
seemed actually deserted.

'Fatigued with walking, I sat down on a door-sill and began to consider
what was best to be done, when I heard the sound of heavy feet moving
along towards me, the clattering of sabots on the rough pavement, and
shortly after a man came up, who, I could just distinguish, seemed to be
a labourer. I suffered him to pass me a few paces, and then called out--

'"Halloa, friend! can you tell me the shortest way to the Pont Neuf?"

'He replied by some words in a patois so strange I could make nothing of
it. I repeated my question, and endeavoured by signs to express my
wish. By this time he was standing close beside me, and I could mark was
evidently paying full attention to all I said. He looked about him once
or twice, as if in search of some one, and then turning to me said, in a
thick guttural voice--

'"Halte-la, I'll come"; and with that he moved down in the direction he
originally came from, and I could hear the clatter of his heavy shoes
till the sounds were lost in the winding alleys.

'A sudden thought struck me that I had done wrong. The fellow had
evidently some dark intention by his going back, and I repented bitterly
having allowed him to leave me. But then, what were easier for him than
to lead me where he pleased, had I retained him! and so I reflected,
when the noise of many voices speaking in a half-subdued accent came
up the street. I heard the sound, too, of a great many feet. My heart
sickened as the idea of murder, so associated with the place, flashed
across me; and I had just time to squeeze myself within the shelter of
the doorway, when the party came up.

'"Somewhere hereabouts, you said, wasn't it?" said one in a good accent
and a deep clear voice.

'"Oui-da!" said the man