expression of appreciation of which he could conceive. He gave the man another ten francs, and pledged him to silence. None the less, he had little faith that the[87] man would keep his tongue still. A Frenchman must talk. [87] After a light breakfast Paul went out into the fresh morning air and began his search. In turn he visited the Hôtel de la Poste, le Grand, de la Cloche, and the rest of them, wandering around the cobbled streets of the sleepy village, and strolling through the market-place, gay with the green and red and russet of its vegetables, the blue and crimson of the umbrellas over the stalls. Then, in the unclouded sunshine, he walked around the ancient ramparts, from which point of vantage he looked down upon wide stretches of sunlit country, dotted here and there with vineyards. It cost him a pretty sum to purchase the confidence of half-suspicious porters, but by the time he had worked through the list with which the friendly servitor[88] had provided him he had come to the conclusion that Mademoiselle Vseslavitch was, of a certainty, not in one of these hostelries. [88] Was she still in Langres? The doubt troubled Paul greatly. All the time, as he walked on through the narrow streets, Paul's eyes sought the object of his quest in vain. Apparently he was the only foreigner in the town. It was nearly twelve as he turned into the Promenade de la Blanche Fontaine, a fine wide avenue of chestnut trees which recalled to Paul the Broad Walk at Oxford, and being the only pedestrian abroad at that hour, he said a few swear-words to himself by way of consolation. Clearly, this search for the lady might prove a case for Sherlock Holmes, while Paul's own detective ability, he admitted, was more of the Dr. Watson order. [89] [89] CHAPTER VIII t was after twelve when Paul sought the shade of the Hôtel de l'Europe again. There the few sounds that pierced the mid-day stillness were chiefly those that penetrated from the kitchen, where Monsieur le Cusinier and his assistants were busily engaged in the preparation of déjeuner. And it was not long before Paul sat down to a delightful meal, served in a vine-framed window. He was alone in the room, and feeling the need of encouragement he invited the genial landlord to share a bottle of Burgundy with him.
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