It would serve no purpose for me to disclose myself, either in or out of the apartments of the baroness, and it would not aid me to be seen idling about the neighborhood in a city where there was so much reason to suppose strangers were watched.

I resolved to wait until the next morning, and to take my friend Von Rittenhofen with me.

He need not know all that I knew, yet in case of any accident to myself or any sudden contretemps, he would serve both as a witness and as an excuse for disarming any suspicion which might be entertained regarding myself.
The next day he readily enough fell in with my suggestion of a morning stroll, and again we sallied forth, at about nine o'clock, having by that time finished a _dejeuner a la fourchette_ with Jacques Bertillon, which to my mind compared unfavorably with one certain other I had shared.
A sense of uneasiness began to oppress me, I knew not why, before I had gone half way down the little street from the corner where we turned.

It was gloomy and dismal enough at the best, and on this morning an unusual apathy seemed to sit upon it, for few of the shutters were down, although the hour was now mid-morning.

Here and there a homely habitant appeared, and bade us good morning; and once in a while we saw the face of a good wife peering from the window.