"The Marquis de Villebelle? Oh, I have sometimes heard my master speak of him. They say that he is a great nobleman, very generous, but a very wild fellow."
"No matter, he offered me his protection, and I shall have recourse to it."
"Mercy, monsieur, you will do well, and who knows whether he's not acquainted with the rascal who has stolen your darling."
"Yes, I hope that the marquis will help me to recover Blanche. These great noblemen tell each other their adventures, their good luck; such a brave man should have some pity on my torture. Why have I not already spoken to him—but his hotel?"
"Oh, he's very well known, monsieur, and it will be very easy for you to find that out."
On the morrow, as soon as it was day, Urbain went out to try and find the one on whom he placed his last hopes. He obtained information as to the marquis' hotel, and he soon arrived there.
"Monsieur le Marquis de Villebelle?" said he entering the court, and timidly addressing the porter.
"This is his hotel, but monsieur le marquis is not in Paris."
"Is not in Paris?" exclaimed Urbain, his heart contracting.
"No, he is travelling."