I was beginning to be very hungry, but that was a detail of no
importance, for I had no time to waste in eating. I went to the
railway-station and looked about until I found a porter whose face I had
seen when I got out of the train. He had, in fact, appeared under the
window of my compartment, offering himself as a luggage carrier and had
been close behind me when my late travelling companion walked by my
side. Questioned, he appeared not to remember; but his wits being
sharpened by the gift of a franc, he reflected and recalled not only my
features but the features of the little man, whom he described with
sufficient accuracy. What had become of _le petit Monsieur_ he was not
certain, but fancied he had eventually driven away in a cab accompanied
by two other gentlemen. He recollected this circumstance, because the
face of the cabman was one that he knew; and it was now again in the
station, for the _voiture_ had returned. Would he point out the _cocher_
to me? He would, and did, receiving a second franc for his pains.

The cab driver proved to be a dull and surly fellow, like many another
_cocher_ of Paris, but the clink of silver and the sight of it mellowed
him. I began by saying that I was in search of three friends of mine
whom I was to have met when the boat train came in, but whom I had
unfortunately missed. I asked him to describe the men he had driven away
from the station at that time, and though he did it clumsily, betraying
an irritating lack of observation when it came to details, still such
information as I could draw from him sounded encouraging. He remembered
perfectly well the place at which he had deposited his three passengers,
and I decided to take the risk of following them.

When I say "risk," I mean the risk that the man I was starting to chase
might turn out not to be the man I wished to follow. Besides, as they
had been driven to Neuilly, the distance was so great that, if I went