ndings.

In the next room I found Nanine sleeping over her work. At the sound of
the door, she awoke and asked if her mistress had come in.

"No; but if she comes in, tell her that I was so anxious that I had to
go to Paris."

"At this hour?"

"Yes.

"But how? You won't find a carriage."

"I will walk."

"But it is raining."

"No matter."

"But madame will be coming back, or if she doesn't come it will be
time enough in the morning to go and see what has kept her. You will be
murdered on the way."

"There is no danger, my dear Nanine; I will see you to-morrow."

The good girl went and got me a cloak, put it over my shoulders, and
offered to wake up Mme. Arnould to see if a vehicle could be obtained;
but I would hear of nothing, convinced as I was that I should lose, in
a perhaps fruitless inquiry, more time than I should take to cover half
the road. Besides, I felt the need of air and physical fatigue in order
to cool down the over-excitement which possessed me.

I took the key of the flat in the Rue d'Antin, and after saying good-bye
to Nanine, who came with me as far as the gate, I set out.

At first I began to run, but the earth was muddy with rain, and I
fatigued myself doubly. At the end of half an hour I was obliged to
stop, and I was drenched with sweat. I recovered my breath and went on.
The night was so dark that at every step I feared to dash myself against
one of the trees on the roadside, which rose up sharply before me like
great phantoms rushing upon me.

I overtook one or two wagons, which I soon left behind. A carriage was
going at full gallop toward Bougival. As it passed me the hope came
to me that Marguerite was in it. I stopped and cried out, "Marguerite!
Marguerite!" But no one answered and the carriage continued its course.
I watched it fade away in the distance, and then started on my way
again. I took two hours to reach the Barriere de l'Etoile. The sight of
Paris restored my strength, and I ran the whole length of the alley I
had so often walked.

That night no one was passing; it was like going through the midst of a
dead city. The dawn began to break. When I reached the Rue d'Antin the
great city stirred a little before quite awakening. Five o'clock struck
at the church of Saint Roch at the moment when I entered Marguerite's
house. I called out my name to the porter, who had had from me enough
twenty-franc pieces to know that I had the right to call on Mlle.
Gautier at fiv