Still I ran on, thinking that I should find a cab in the Place de la Madeleine; but the Place de la Madeleine was empty.

Even the cafe at the corner was closed.
Even the omnibus office was shut up, and the red lamp above the door extinguished.
What was I to do now?
Panting and breathless, I leaned up against a doorway, and resigned myself to fate.

Stay, what was that file of carriages, dimly seen through the rain which was now coming down in earnest?
It was in a private street opening off at the back of the Madeleine--a street in which I could remember no public stand.

Perhaps there was an evening party at one of the large houses lower down, and, if so, I might surely find a not wholly incorruptible cabman, who would consent for a liberal _pourboire_ to drive me home and keep his fare waiting, if need were, for one little half-hour! At all events it was worth trying for; so away I darted again, with the wind whistling about my ears, and the rain driving in my face.
But my troubles were not to be so speedily ended.

Among the ten or fifteen equipages which I found drawn up in file, there was not one hackney vehicle.