Martin. It was let out in small
lodgings to tenants as decayed and disreputable as their domicile.
"M. Sabatier?" asked Hyde, boldly, of the porter.
"On the fifth floor, the third door to the right," was the reply.
Hyde mounted the stairs and knocked at the door indicated.
"Well?" asked an old woman who opened it.
"The patron--is he here? I must speak to him."
"Who are you? What brings you?" The old woman still held the door
ajar, and denied him admission.
"I have news from the Crimea--important news--from the Maltese."
"Joe?" asked the old woman, still suspicious.
Hyde nodded, and said sharply--
"Be quick! The patron must know at once. You will have to answer for
this delay."
"He is absent--come again to-morrow," replied the old woman, sulkily.
"It will be worse for him--for all of us--if he does not see me at
once."
"I tell you he is absent. You must come again;" and with that the
woman shut the door in his face.
What was Hyde to do now? Watch outside? That would hardly be safe. The
police, he knew, were on the look-out already, and they would be
suspicious of any one engaged in the same game.
There was nothing for it but to take the old woman's reply for truth
and wait till the following day. Hyde knew his Paris well enough to
find a third-class hotel or lodging-house suitable for such a man as
he now seemed, and here, after wandering through the streets for
hours, dining at a low restaurant and visiting the gallery of a
theatre, he sought and easily obtained a bed.
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