The hostess conducted him to the office; he showed his passport, and inquired whether there was any way of returning that same night to Montreuil-sur-Mer by the mail-wagon; the seat beside the postboy chanced to be vacant; he engaged it and paid for it. “Monsieur,” said the clerk, “do not fail to be here ready to start at precisely one o’clock in the morning.”

This done, he left the hotel and began to wander about the town.

He was not acquainted with Arras; the streets were dark, and he walked on at random; but he seemed bent upon not asking the way of the passersby. He crossed the little river Crinchon, and found himself in a labyrinth of narrow alleys where he lost his way. A citizen was passing along with a lantern. After some hesitation, he decided to apply to this man, not without having first glanced behind and in front of him, as though he feared lest someone should hear the question which he was about to put.

“Monsieur,” said he, “where is the courthouse, if you please.”