was sitting behind his counter, to show us M. Cournet's
house. "Opposite," said the grocer, pointing to an old and low carriage
entrance which could be seen on the other side of the street, almost
facing his shop.

We knocked at this door. It was opened. Baudin entered first, tapped at
the window of the porter's lodge, and asked "Monsieur Cournet?"--An old
woman's voice answered, "Here."

The portress was in bed; all in the house sleeping. We went in.

Having entered, and the gate being shut behind us, we found ourselves in
a little square courtyard which formed the centre of a sort of a
two-storied ruin; the silence of a convent prevailed, not a light was to
be seen at the windows; near a shed was seen a low entrance to a narrow,
dark, and winding staircase. "We have made some mistake," said
Charamaule; "it is impossible that it can be here."

Meanwhile the portress, hearing all these trampling steps beneath her
doorway, had become wide awake, had lighted her lamp, and we could see
her in her lodge, her face pressed against the window, gazing with alarm
at sixty dark phantoms, motionless, and standing in her courtyard.

Esquiros addressed her: "Is this really M. Cournet's house?" said he.

"M. Cornet, without doubt," answered the good woman.

All was explained. We had asked for Cournet, the grocer had understood
Cornet, the portress had understood Cornet. It chanced that M. Cornet
lived there.

We shall see by and by what an extraordinary service chance had rendered
us.

We went out, to the great relief of the poor portress, and we resumed
our search. Xavier Durrieu succeeded in ascertaining our whereabouts,
and extricated us from our difficulty.

A few moments afterwards we turned to the left, and we entered into a
blind alley of considerable length and dimly lighted by an old oil
lamp--one of those with which Paris was formerly lighted--then again to
the left, and we entered through a narrow passage into a large courtyard
encumbered with sheds and building materials. This time we had reached
Cournet's.

CHAPTER XIX.

ONE FOOT IN THE TOMB

Cournet was waiting for us. He received us on the ground floor, in a
parlor where there was a fire, a table, and some chairs; but the room
was so small that a quarter of us filled it to overflowing, and the
others remained in the courtyard. "It is impossible to deliberate here,"
said Bancel. "I have a larger room on the first floor," answered
Cournet, "but