ave lost his senses.

However, one summer day, when the roofs all seemed red-hot, and the
whole town appeared dead, Monsieur de Champdelin had followed two
milliner's girls, with bandboxes in their hands from street to street,
whispering nonsense to them, and promising beforehand to give them
anything they asked him for, and had gone after them as far as the
Cathedral. In their fright, they took refuge there, but he followed them
in, and, emboldened by the solitude of the nave, and by the perfect
silence in the building, he became more enterprising and bolder. They
did not know how to defend themselves, or to escape from him, and were
trembling at his daring attempts, and at his kisses, when he saw a
confessional whose doors were open, in one of the side chapels. "We
should be much more comfortable in there, my little dears," he said,
going into it, as if to get such an unexpected nest ready for them.

But they were quicker than he, and throwing themselves against the
grated door, they pushed it to before he could turn round, and locked
him in. At first he thought it was only a joke, and it amused him; but
when they began to laugh heartily and putting their tongues at him, as
if he had been a monkey in a cage, and overwhelmed him with insults, he
first of all grew angry, and then humble, offering to pay well for his
ransom, and he implored them to let him out, and tried to escape like a
mouse does out of a trap. They, however, did not appear to hear him, but
naively bowed to him ceremoniously, wished him good night, and ran out
as fast as they could.

Champdelin was in despair; he did not know what to do, and cursed his
bad luck. What would be the end of it? Who would deliver him from that
species of prison, and was he going to remain there all the afternoon
and night, like a portmanteau that had been forgotten at the lost
luggage office? He could not manage to force the lock, and did not
venture to knock hard against the sides of the confessional, for fear of
attracting the attention of some beadle or sacristan. Oh! those wretched
girls, and how people would make fun of him and write verses about him,
and point their fingers at him, if the joke were discovered and got
noised abroad!

By and by, he heard the faint sound of prayers in the distance and
through the green serge curtain that concealed him Monsieur Champdelin
heard the rattle of the beads on the chaplets, as the women repeated
their _Ave Maria's_, and the