Nay, had I then known all that was to be known I would have gone back and--But of that in another place.
The Rue de Valois, to which a tradesman, who was peering cautiously out of his shop, directed me, proved to be one of the main streets of the city, narrow and dirty, and darkened by overhanging eaves and signboards, but full of noise and bustle.

One end of it opened on the PARVIS of the Cathedral; the other and quieter end appeared to abut on the west gate of the town.

Feeling the importance of avoiding notice in the neighbourhood of the house I sought, I strolled into the open space in front of the Cathedral, and accosting two men who stood talking there, learned that the Ruelle d'Arcy was the third lane on the right of the Rue de Valois, and some little distance along it.

Armed with this information I left them, and with my head bent down, and my cloak drawn about the lower part of my face, as if I felt the east wind, I proceeded down the street until I reached the opening of the lane.

Without looking up I turned briskly into it.
When I had gone ten paces past the turning, however, I stopped and, gazing about me, began to take in my surroundings as fast as I could.
The lane, which seemed little frequented, was eight or nine feet wide, unpaved, and full of ruts.