“To-morrow,” said he, “if you like, we will have a bout.”
“I am not sure whether I shall be able to. I fear that M. Drouet will be anxious about me.”
“Will you have a bout now?” said he.
“Certainly,” I replied, “if you wish it; but we have plenty of time before us. I shall not leave Paris without returning to thank M. Duplay, and then we shall have a better opportunity.”
These evasive answers made Félicién think that I was not particularly anxious to cross foils with him; so he commenced a recital of his prowess and so, kindly lulled me to sleep.
I awoke, as usual, at daybreak, and slipping quietly out of bed, I dressed myself with as little noise as possible, so as not to awaken Félicién, and when ready, I left the room, and descended into the court.
All of M. Duplay’s household were asleep, but the door was left open, so that I did not waste an instant.
The clock of the Church of Assumption sounded the half-after four o’clock as I left the house. I was utterly incapable of finding my way about Paris, in which I had arrived only the evening before; but the solemnity to be observed on the morrow had early drawn crowds abroad, so the streets were pretty full notwithstanding the untimely hour.
I asked my nearest route; they pointed out to me the Boulevards. Arrived there, I had only to follow that by no means despicable portion of my body, my nose, and, in a very short time, I discovered the Rue Grange Batélière. Ten minutes after, I entered the “Hotel des Postes,” and discovered, to my great joy, that M. Drouet was within.