old Hotel du Martoy, nearly at the corner of the Rue de la
Femme-sans-Tete.* So he went on while the quay, after flashing forth
for a moment, relapsed into darkness, and a terrible thunder-clap
shook the drowsy quarter.

* The street of the Headless woman.--ED.

When Claude, blinded by the rain, got to his door--a low, rounded
door, studded with iron--he fumbled for the bell knob, and he was
exceedingly surprised--indeed, he started--on finding a living,
breathing body huddled against the woodwork. Then, by the light of a
second flash, he perceived a tall young girl, dressed in black, and
drenched already, who was shivering with fear. When a second
thunder-clap had shaken both of them, Claude exclaimed:

'How you frighten one! Who are you, and what do you want?'

He could no longer see her; he only heard her sob, and stammer:

'Oh, monsieur, don't hurt me. It's the fault of the driver, whom I
hired at the station, and who left me at this door, after ill-treating
me. Yes, a train ran off the rails, near Nevers. We were four hours
late, and a person who was to wait for me had gone. Oh, dear me; I
have never been in Paris before, and I don't know where I am. . . .'

Another blinding flash cut her short, and with dilated eyes she
stared, terror-stricken, at that part of the strange capital, that
violet-tinted apparition of a fantastic city. The rain had ceased
falling. On the opposite bank of the Seine was the Quai des Ormes,
with its small grey houses variegated below by the woodwork of their