Unfortunately they were not behind it.
Having opened the gate Tartarin went out, cast a quick look right and left, closed the gate swiftly and double locked it.

Then he set off.
On the Avignon road there was not so much as a cat.

Doors were shut and curtains drawn across windows.

Here and there a street light blinked in the mist rising from the Rhone.
Superb and calm Tartarin de Tarascon strode through the night, his heels striking the road with measured tread and the metal tip of his cane raising sparks from the paving-stones.

On boulevards, roads or lanes he was always careful to walk in the middle of the causeway, an excellent precaution which allows one to see approaching danger and moreover to avoid things which at night, in the streets of Tarascon, sometimes fall from windows.