wo days before had
not yet been repaired, the wires were still down, and we were warned
that the road was badly washed in places.

Luckily for us, the moon soon arose, so that we got forward without
much difficulty, though slowly; and an hour before midnight we pulled
up triumphantly before the Hotel Blanquet, the principal inn of
Etretat. We lost no time in getting to bed; for we wished to be up
betimes in the morning, and I fell asleep with the comforting belief
that we had at last eluded Monsieur Martigny.

CHAPTER XVII

Etretat

We were up at an hour which astonished the little fat keeper of the
inn, and inquired the location of the office of the registrar of
births. It was two steps away in the Rue Alphonse Karr, but would not
be open for three hours, at least. Would messieurs have their coffee
now? No, messieurs would not have their coffee until they returned.
Where would they find the residence of the registrar of births? His
residence, that was another matter. His residence was some little
distance away, near the Casino, at the right--we should ask for Maitre
Fingret--anyone could tell us. When should messieurs be expected to
return? It was impossible to say.

We set off along the street, leaving the inn-keeper staring after
us--along the Rue Alphonse Karr, lined on both sides by houses, each
with its little shop on the ground floor. Three minutes' walk brought
us to the bay, a pretty, even picturesque place, with its
perpendicular cliffs and gayly-colored fishing-smacks. But we paused
for only a glance at it, and turned toward the Casino at the other
end. "Maitre Fingret?" we inquired of the first passer-by, and he
pointed us to a little house, half-hidden in vines.

A knock brought the notary himself to the door, a little dried-up man,
with keen face, and eyes incredibly bright. My companion explained our
errand in laborious French, supplemented by much gesticulation--it is
wonderful how the hands can help one to talk!--and after a time the
little Frenchman caught his meaning, and bustled away to get his hat
and coat, scenting a fat fee. Our first step was to be an easy one,
thanks to the severity and thoroughness of French administration, but
I admit that I saw not what we should do further, once we had
verified the date of Miss Holladay's birth. The next step must be left
to chance.

The notary unlocked the door, showed us into his office, and set out
chairs for us. Then he got down his reg