Then he called the servants into
the vestibule, gave them ten napoleons to divide among them, and
hastened away.
XIII
The Count de Tremorel, having reached the street, ascended the
boulevard. All of a sudden he bethought him of his friends. The
story of the execution must have already spread.
"No; not that way," he muttered.
This was because, on the boulevard, he would certainly meet some
of his very dear cronies, and he desired to escape their condolence
and offers of service. He pictured to himself their sorry visages,
concealing a hidden and delicious satisfaction. He had wounded so
many vanities that he must look for terrible revenges. The friends
of an insolently prosperous man are rejoiced in his downfall.
Hector crossed the street, went along the Rue Duphot, and reached
the quays. Where was he going? He did not know, and did not even
ask himself. He walked at random, enjoying the physical content
which follows a good meal, happy to find himself still in the land
of the living, in the soft April sunlight.
The weather was superb, and all Paris was out of doors. There was
a holiday air about the town.
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