“Madame,” said Eusebe to a female who brushed past him, “a little information, I pray you.”
“This is a well-chosen hour for asking questions, truly. What do you want?”
“Inform me, if you please, of a place where I can sleep to-night.”
“Pass on your way, you insolent scamp! For whom do you take me, you low-bred fellow? Cease to disturb me, or I will have you arrested.”
This cut was too much for the poor Limousin. He felt as if his legs would give way under him. He sank upon a stone step, and, in a despairing tone, asked himself what would become of him.
He was endowed with a strong, healthy constitution. No ordinary peril could frighten him; but this solitude in the midst of a crowd gave him strange sensations: he felt his heart swell, while the tears started.
“Are you sick, monsieur?” inquired a man who was engaged in closing a store.
“No,” responded Eusebe, “but I am not much better off.”
“Are you hungry?”
“No.”