It cost him a pretty sum to purchase the confidence of half-suspicious porters, but by the time he had worked through the list with which the friendly servitor had provided him he had come to the conclusion that Mademoiselle Vseslavitch was, of a certainty, not in one of these hostelries.
Was she still in Langres? The doubt troubled Paul greatly.
All the time, as he walked on through the narrow streets, Paul's eyes sought the object of his quest in vain. Apparently he was the only foreigner in the town. It was nearly twelve as he turned into the _Promenade de la Blanche Fontaine_, a fine wide avenue of chestnut trees which recalled to Paul the Broad Walk at Oxford, and being the only pedestrian abroad at that hour, he said a few swear-words to himself by way of consolation.
Clearly, this search for the lady might prove a case for Sherlock Holmes, while Paul's own detective ability, he admitted, was more of the Dr. Watson order.
It was after twelve when Paul sought the shade of the _Hôtel de l'Europe_ again. There the few sounds that pierced the mid-day stillness were chiefly those that penetrated from the kitchen, where _Monsieur le Cusinier_ and his assistants were busily engaged in the preparation of _déjeuner_. And it was not long before Paul sat down to a delightful meal, served in a vine-framed window. He was alone in the room, and feeling the need of encouragement he invited the genial landlord to share a bottle of Burgundy with him.
The two men sat there, toasting each other more and more gaily as the red nectar fell lower in the long bottle, until finally, perceiving his host to be in a confidential mood, Paul questioned him about tourist travel.
"Ah! Monsieur! May the _bon Dieu_ bless you! You are the first to visit us this summer. It is early yet. But soon they will come to see our wonderful cathedral, and stay a day or two with us."
Paul's spirits drooped again at this information, but for an hour after finishing his demi-tasse he lingered at the table, hoping for some clue, while _Monsieur le Propriétaire_ chattered on.
There was indeed but little to amuse the traveller in Langres, after the cathedral, beyond the quaint streets and the beautiful old timber-framed houses. Doubtless Monsieur Verdayne--he did not know Paul's title--would wish to see the cathedral that very afternoon; it would be pleasant to go to vespers. A little later for himself, he would recommend another walk to the ramparts to see the sun-set.