BOOK II.


CHAPTER VII.

THE BAD OMEN


The day was drawing to a close. That endlessly long day, that 31st
of August, 1786, was coming to a conclusion. All Paris had awaited
it with breathless excitement, with feverish impatience. No one had
been able to attend to his business. The stores were closed, the
workshops of the artisans were empty; even in the restaurants and
cafes all was still; the cooks had nothing to do, and let the fire
go out, for it seemed as if all Paris had lost its appetite--as if
nobody had time to eat.

And in truth, on this day, Paris had no hunger for food that could
satisfy the body. The city was hungry only for news, it longed for
food which would satisfy its curiosity. And the news which would
appease its craving was to come from the court-room of the prison!
It was to that quarter that Paris looked for the stilling of its
hunger, the satisfying of its desires.

The judges were assembled in the hall of the prison to pronounce the
decisive sentence in the necklace trial, and to announce to all