rk, and the Chourineur, that he might know the next day the place
where he then was, drew from his pocket his clasp-knife, and cut a deep
notch in one of the trees at the corner of the entrance, and then
returned to his resting-place, which was at a considerable distance.

For the first time for a very long while, the Chourineur enjoyed in his
den a comfortable sleep, which was not once interrupted by the horrible
vision of the "Sergeant's slaughter-house," as, in his coarse language,
he styled it.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE WALK.

On the day after the evening on which the various events we have
described had passed, a bright autumnal sun shone from a pure sky; the
darkness of the night had wholly disappeared. Although always shaded by
the height of the houses, the disreputable neighbourhood into which the
reader has followed us seemed less horrible when viewed in the light of
open day.

Whether Rodolph no longer feared meeting with the two persons whom he
had evaded the over-night, or did not care whether he faced them or not,
about eleven o'clock in the morning he entered the Rue aux Feves, and
directed his steps towards the tavern of the ogress.

Rodolph was still in a workman's dress; but there was a decided neatness
in his costume. His new blouse, open on his chest, showed a red woollen
shirt, closed by several silver buttons; whilst the collar of another
shirt, of white cotton, fell over a black silk cravat, loosely tied
around his neck. From under his sky blue velvet cap, with a bright
leather peak, several locks of chestnut hair were seen; and his boots,
cleaned very brightly, and replacing the heavy iron shoes of the
previous evening, showed off to advantage a well-formed foot, which
seemed all the smaller from appearing out of a loose pantaloon of olive
velveteen. The costume was well calculated to display the elegant shape
and carriage of Rodolph, which combined so much grace, suppleness, and
power. The ogress was airing herself at her door when Rodolph presented
himself.

"Your servant, young man; you have come, no doubt, for your change of
the twenty francs," she said, with some show of respect, not venturing
to forget that the conqueror of the Chourineur had handed her a louis
d'or the previous evening. "There is seventeen francs ten sous coming to
you; but that's not all. There was somebody here asking after you last
night,--a tall gent, well dressed, and with him a young woman in men's
clothes.