Like most country people when they come to town I had numerous errands to do, so we set off towards the Bazar de l'Hotel de Ville, renowned for its farming implements.
At the corner of the Rue des Archives we met Monsieur Gauthier on his way to his Museum.
"Grave—tre's grave—la situation, Monsieur," was all he could say.
"What would you advise us to do?"
"Well, to speak plainly, I should advise you to shut up the chateau, leave a guardian, and open your Paris apartment. You're in the east, you know! I shall go down by the five train and bring back Elizabeth and the children. I'd be easier in my mind if I knew they were in a big city! I If you have to leave, Madame Huard would be better off here."
H. was very sober as we left Mr. Gauthier.
"Bah! Cheer up! I'm afraid our friend is an alarmist. You know he has two young children!"
We entered the Bazar, which is the "biggest" of the big stores in Paris. Every day in the week, and Sundays included, it is usually so crowded with buyers and sellers that one has to elbow one's way, and literally serve one's self. To our amazement it was empty—literally empty. Not a single customer—not a single clerk to be seen. The long stretches of floor and counters were vacant as though the store were closed. I gasped a little in surprise and just as I did so a female voice from behind a distant desk called out:
"What is your pleasure, Madame?"
I turned, and a little woman in black advanced towards me.