that he turned back and proceeded along the Rue Saint Denis. Then he got
amongst the vegetables once more. Retail dealers had just set up their
stalls, formed of planks resting on tall hampers; and the deluge of
cabbages and carrots and turnips began all over again. The markets were
overflowing. Florent tried to make his escape from this pursuing
flood which ever overtook him in his flight. He tried the Rue de la
Cossonnerie, the Rue Berger, the Square des Innocents, the Rue de
la Ferronnerie, and the Rue des Halles. And at last he came to a
standstill, quite discouraged and scared at finding himself unable to
escape from the infernal circle of vegetables, which now seemed to dance
around him, twining clinging verdure about his legs.

The everlasting stream of carts and horses stretched away as far as the
Rue de Rivoli and the Place de l'Hotel de Ville. Huge vans were carrying
away supplies for all the greengrocers and fruiterers of an entire
district; _chars-a-bancs_ were starting for the suburbs with straining,
groaning sides. In the Rue de Pont Neuf Florent got completely
bewildered. He stumbled upon a crowd of hand-carts, in which numerous
costermongers were arranging their purchases. Amongst them he recognised
Lacaille, who went off along the Rue Saint Honore, pushing a barrow of
carrots and cauliflowers before him. Florent followed him, in the hope
that he would guide him out of the mob. The pavement was now quite
slippery, although the weather was dry, and the litter of artichoke
stalks, turnip tops, and leaves of all kinds made walking somewhat
dangerous. Florent stumbled at almost every step. He lost sight of
Lacaille in the Rue Vauvilliers, and on approaching the corn market
he again found the streets barricaded with vehicles. Then he made no
further attempt to struggle; he was once more in the clutch of the
markets, and their stream of life bore him back. Slowly retracing his
steps, he presently found himself by Saint Eustache again.