to myself with
which my public career may be said to commence.

I had spent the evening at a house in a distant part of Paris, and,
invited by the beauty of the night, had dismissed my carriage, and was
walking home alone and on foot. Occupied with my reflections, and not
very well acquainted with the dangerous and dark streets of Paris, in
which it was very rare for those who have carriages to wander on foot,
I insensibly strayed from my proper direction. When I first discovered
this disagreeable fact, I was in a filthy and obscure lane rather than
street, which I did not remember having ever honoured with my presence
before. While I was pausing in the vain hope and anxious endeavour to
shape out some imaginary chart--some "map of the mind," by which to
direct my bewildered course--I heard a confused noise proceed from
another lane at right angles with the one in which I then was. I
listened: the sound became more distinct; I recognized human voices in
loud and angry altercation; a moment more and there was a scream. Though
I did not attach much importance to the circumstance, I thought I might
as well approach nearer to the quarter of noise. I walked to the door of
the house from which the scream proceeded; it was very small and mean.
Just as I neared it, a window was thrown open, and a voice cried, "Help!
help! for God's sake, help!"

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Whoever you are, save us!" cried the voice, "and that instantly, or we
shall be murdered;" and, the moment after, the voice ceased abruptly,
and was succeeded by the clashing of swords.

I beat loudly at the door; I shouted out,--no answer; the scuffle within
seemed to increase. I saw a small blind alley to the left; one of the
unfortunate women to whom such places are homes was standing in it.

"What possibility is there of entering the house?" I asked.

"Oh!" said she, "it does not matter; it is not the first time gentlemen
have cut each other's throats _there_."

"What! is it a house of bad repute?"

"Yes; and where there are bullies who wear knives, and take purses, as
well as ladies who--"

"Good heavens!" cried I, interrupting her, "there is no time to be lost.
Is there no way of entrance but at this door?"

"Yes, if you are bold enough to enter at another!"

"Where?"

"Down this alley."

Immediately I entered the alley; the woman pointed to a small, dark,
narrow flight of stairs; I ascended; the sounds increased in loudness. I
mou