Not being able to stand it any longer, Colline swore to himself that he would not take a moment's rest until he had laid hands on the undiscoverable editor of this paper.
Aided by chances which it would take too long to tell in detail, the philosopher was able to keep his word.

Within two days he learned Rodolphe's abiding place and called on him there at six in the morning.
Rodolphe was then residing in a lodging house in a deserted street situated in the Faubourg Saint Germain, and was perched on the fifth floor because there was not a sixth.

When Colline came to his door there was no key in the lock outside.

He knocked for ten minutes without obtaining any answer from within; the din he made at this early hour attracted the attention of even the porter, who came to ask him to be quiet.
"You see very well that the gentleman is asleep," said he.
"That is why I want to wake him up," replied Colline, knocking again.
"He does not want to answer then," replied the porter, placing before Rodolphe's door a pair of patent leather boots and a pair of lady's boots that he had just cleaned.
"Wait a bit though," observed Colline, examining the masculine and feminine foot gear.

"New patent leathers! I must have made a mistake; it cannot be here." "Yes, by the way," said the porter, "whom do you want ?" "A woman's boots!" continued Colline, speaking to himself, and thinking of his friends austere manners, "Yes, certainly I must have made a mistake.