Two police agents installed themselves in front of him while a third mounted the box by the side of the driver.
During the drive, he did not at all realize his situation.

He lay perfectly motionless in the dirty, greasy vehicle.

His body, which followed every jolt, scarcely allayed by the worn-out springs, rolled from one side to the other and his head oscillated on his shoulders, as if the muse of his neck were broken.

He thought of Widow Lerouge.

He recalled her as she was when he went with his father to La Jonchere.