So those rascals had really abandoned Plassans to him.

The town belonged to him now; it slept like the foolish thing it was; there it lay, dark and tranquil, silent and confident, and he had only to stretch out his hand to take possession of it.

That brief halt, the supercilious glance which he cast over the drowsy place, thrilled him with unspeakable delight.

He remained there, alone in the darkness, and crossed his arms, in the attitude of a great general on the eve of a victory.

He could hear nothing in the distance but the murmur of the fountains of the Cours Sauvaire, whose jets of water fell into the basins with a musical plashing.
Then he began to feel a little uneasy.