The difficulty in those days was to leave, not to enter.

He came in dressed as a Norman peasant, in charge of a load of fruit and vegetables, with which one of the Seine barges was freighted.

He worked hard with his companions in landing and arranging their produce on the quays; and then, when they dispersed to get their breakfasts at some of the estaminets near the old Marche aux Fleurs, he sauntered up a street which conducted him, by many an odd turn, through the Quartier Latin to a horrid back alley, leading out of the Rue l'Ecole de Medecine; some atrocious place, as I have heard, not far from the shadow of that terrible Abbaye, where so many of the best blood of France awaited their deaths.

But here some old man lived, on whose fidelity Clement thought that he might rely.

I am not sure if he had not been gardener in those very gardens behind the Hotel Crequy where Clement and Urian used to play together years before.