They passed through the markets, and not far ahead they could see the university.

It looked like a city prison.
"This is the hotel, Herr," said the messenger.
They entered.

Maurice approached the proprietor, who was pale and flurried; but as Maurice had never seen the natural repose of his countenance, he thought nothing of it.
"My friend, Herr Hamilton, has met with an accident.

Where is his room ?" "Number nine; Johann will show you." He acted as if he had something more to say, but a glance from the round-faced porter silenced him.
Maurice lost much by not seeing this glance.

He followed the messenger up the stairs.
There were no transoms.