They passed along the garden wall of the countess’ house, and crossed a street on a corner of which stood the tobacco-shop. A few steps further on, Danègre stopped; his limbs shook beneath him, and he sank to a bench.

“Well! what now?” demanded his companion.

“It is there.”

“Where? Come, now, no nonsense!”

“There⁠—in front of us.”

“Where?”

“Between two paving-stones.”

“Which?”

“Look for it.”

“Which stones?”

Victor made no reply.