There
was evidently nothing to be gained from this ferocious personage;
and yet Chupin bowed none the less politely as he left the little
office. "This is bad," he growled, as he walked away, for he was
really at a loss what to do next; and if not discouraged, he was
at least extremely disconcerted and perplexed. Ah! if he had only
had a card from the prefecture of police in his pocket, or if he
had been more imposing in appearance, he would have encountered no
obstacles; he might then have tracked this cab through the streets
of Paris as easily as he could have followed a man bearing a
lighted lantern through the darkness. But poor and humble,
without letters of recommendation, and with no other auxiliaries
than his own shrewdness and experience, he had a great deal to
contend against. Pausing in his walk, he had taken off his cap
and was scratching his head furiously, when suddenly he exclaimed:
"What an ass I am!" in so loud a tone that several passers-by
turned to see who was applying this unflattering epithet to
himself.
Chupin had just remembered one of M. Isidore Fortunat's debtors, a
man whom he often visited in the hope of extorting some trifling
amount from him, and who was employed in the Central office of the
Paris Cab Company. "If any one can help me out of this
difficulty, it must be that fellow," he said to himself.
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