both the master and M. Desmoulin in a state of anxiety. M. Zola, for his
part, felt altogether out of his element. After the excitement of his
trial and his journey to England, and the novelty of finding himself
stranded in a strange city, a kind of reaction had set in and he was
extremely depressed.

M. Desmoulin on his side, having procured several morning newspapers, had
explored their columns to ascertain whether the ladies by whom the master
had been recognised in the street on the previous day, had by any chance
noised the circumstance abroad. However, the Press was still on the
Norway and Holland scents, and as yet not a paper so much as suggested M.
Zola's presence in England.

'There has hardly been time,' said Desmoulin to me, 'but there will
probably be something fresh this afternoon. Those actresses are certain
to tell people, and we shall have to make ourselves scarce.'

I tried to cheer and tranquillise both him and M. Zola, and then arranged
that Wareham should come to the hotel at 2 P.M. Meantime, said I,
whatever M. Desmoulin might do, it would be as well for M. Zola to remain
indoors. Several commissions were entrusted to me, and I went off,
promising to return about noon.

I betook myself first to Messrs. Chatto and Windus's in St. Martin's
Lane, where I arrived a few minutes before ten o'clock. Neither Mr.
Chatto nor his partner, Mr. Percy Spalding, had as yet arrived, and I
therefore had to wait a few minutes. When Mr. Spalding made his
appearance he greeted me with a smile, and while leading the way to his
private room exclaimed, 'So our friend Zola is in London!'