At last an old woman appeared carrying a small wax taper.

She was feeble and bent, and began to excuse herself; she was alone and could not be everywhere at the same time, in her lodge and lighting the lamps on the stairways.

Caffie lived on the first floor, in the wing on the street.
Saniel mounted the stairs and rang the bell.

A long time passed, or at least it seemed long to him, before there was an answer.

At last he heard a slow and heavy step on the tiled floor and the door was opened, but held by a hand and a foot.
"What do you wish ?" "Monsieur Caffie." "I am he.