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morrow, he found no one at the Luxembourg; he had ex-
pected this. At dusk, he went to the house.
No light in the windows; the shades were drawn; the
third floor was totally dark.
Marius rapped at the porte cochere, entered, and said to
the porter:—
‘The gentleman on the third floor?’
‘Has moved away,’ replied the porter.
Marius reeled and said feebly:—
‘How long ago?’
‘Yesterday.’
‘Where is he living now?’
‘I don’t know anything about it.’
‘So he has not left his new address?’
‘No.’
And the porter, raising his eyes, recognized Marius.
‘Come! So it’s you!’ said he; ‘but you are decidedly a spy
then?’