He began to wait about the door himself in the hope of detecting the other: and a dozen times between dawn and dark he was on his feet at the upper window, looking warily down, on the chance of seeing him in the Corraterie.
At last, slowly and against his will, the fear that the fish would not bite began to take hold of him.

Either the Syndic was honest, or he was patient as well as cunning.

In no other way could Basterga explain his dupe's inaction.

And presently, when he had almost brought himself to accept the former conclusion, on an evening something more than a week later, a thing happened that added sharpness to his anxiety.

He was crossing the bridge from the Quarter of St.Gervais, when a man cloaked to the eyes slipped from the shadow of the mills, a little before him, and with a slight but unmistakable gesture of invitation proceeded in front of him without turning his head.
There was mist on the face of the river that rushed in a cataract below; a steady rain was falling, and darkness itself was not far off.