Les miserables (Abridged) - Victor Hugo [116]
6 (7)
THE TRAVELLER ARRIVES AND PROVIDES FOR HIS RETURN
IT WAS NEARLY eight o‘clock in the evening when the carriole which we left on the road drove into the yard of the Hotel de la Poste at Arras. The man whom we have followed thus far, got out, answered the hospitalities of the inn’s people with an absent-minded air, sent back the extra horse, and took the little white one to the stable himself; then he opened the door of a billiard-room on the first floor, took a seat, and leaned his elbows on the table. He had spent fourteen hours in this trip, which he expected to make in six. He did himself the justice to feel that it was not his fault, but at bottom he was not sorry for it.
The landlady entered.
“Will monsieur have a bed? will monsieur have supper?”
He shook his head.
“The stable-boy says that monsieur’s horse is very tired!”
Here he broke silence.
“Is not the horse able to start again to-morrow morning?”
“Oh; monsieur! he needs at least two days’ rest.”
He asked:
“Is not the Post Office here?”
“Yes, sir.”
The hostess led him to the Post Office; he showed his passport and inquired if there were an opportunity to return that very night to M—sur M—by the mail coach; only one seat was vacant, that by the side of the driver; he retained it and paid for it. “Monsieur,” said the booking clerk, “don’t fail to be here ready to start at precisely one o‘clock in the morning.”
This done, he left the hotel and began to walk in the city.
He was not acquainted with Arras, the streets were dark, and he went haphazard. Nevertheless he seemed to refrain obstinately from asking his way. He crossed the little river Crinchon, and found himself in a labyrinth of narrow streets, where he was soon lost. A citizen came along with a lantern. After some hesitation, he determined to speak to this man, but not until he had looked before and behind, as if he were afraid that somebody might overhear the question he was about to ask.
“Monsieur,” said he, “the court house, if you please?”
“You are not a resident of the city, monsieur,” answered the citizen, who was an old man, “well, follow me, I am going right by the court house, that is to say, the city hall. For they are repairing the court house just now, and the courts are holding the sessions at the city hall, temporarily.”
“Is it there,” asked he, “that the court sessions are held?”
“Certainly, monsieur; you see, what is the city hall to-day was the bishop’s palace before the revolution. Monsieur de Conzié, who was bishop in ‘eighty-two, had a large hall built. The court is held in that hall.”
As they walked along, the citizen said to him:
“If monsieur wishes to see a trial, he is rather late. Ordinarily the sessions close at six o‘clock.”
However, when they reached the great square, the citizen showed him four long lighted windows on the front of a vast dark building.
“Faith, monsieur, you are in time, you are fortunate. Do you see those four windows? that is the court. There is a light there. Then they have not finished. The case must have been prolonged and they are having an evening session. Are you interested in this case? Is it a criminal trial? Are you a witness?”
He answered:
“I have no business; I only wish to speak to a lawyer.”
“That’s another thing,” said the citizen. “Stop, monsieur, here is the door. The doorkeeper is up there. You have only to go up the grand stairway.”
He followed the citizen’s instructions, and in a few minutes found himself in a hall where there were many people, and scattered groups of lawyers in their robes whispering here and there.
This hall, which, though spacious, was lighted by a single lamp, was an ancient hall of the Episcopal palace, and served as a waiting-room. A double folding door, which was now closed, separated it from the large room in which the court was in session.