There was a light in an attic on the sixth floor. It was only a poor woman at work, but she was accused of signalling with her little lamp from the height of her attic to the Prussians who were besieging Paris. The latter were at least fifteen or twenty miles from the boulevard, even where their siege-works had approached our ramparts. So it was simply ridiculous to suppose that signals could have been given to the Prussians from a window in the boulevard. The feeble little light on the sixth floor, however, was quite enough to make the passer-by believe that there was a spy up there communicating with the enemy and signalling messages to him. That is the kind of spy mania which was responsible for yielding me an amusing quarter of an hour when I least expected it. The event took place at Dieppe. This peaceable and innocent little seaside town, well known to all Parisians, certainly had no reason to attract the attention of M. de Moltke and his generals, but it was there that I was nearly arrested as a vile spy, by order of the sous-préfet, who no doubt smelt out an ingenious plan on the part of the Prussian Field-Marshal for taking this important fortress without a blow. I had just arrived in a carriage from Eu, and had come to Dieppe to take the train there. I was waiting for the time when the train was to start, and had gone to the hotel for lunch in company with the persons who had come with me, or rather, who had brought me in their carriage, very kindly putting it at my disposal because for the moment there was no other means of communication between Eu and Dieppe. I had scarcely sat down to table when the proprietor came up with a thousand bows and stammered excuses and told me that there was someone there ... someone who ... a gentleman who ... in a word that there was someone who wanted to speak to me. Someone to speak to me at nine in the morning; me, an unknown, a stranger from a distance, who had passed the night on the road and had only just arrived in the place! It seemed a curious demand and I foresaw mystery. “Let him come in,” I said to the proprietor, smiling, for I could not help being amused at his grave and embarrassed manner. The dining-room opened on to a large, dark corridor which had not been lit up and in which it was difficult to distinguish what was happening. My host rushed into the corridor and disappeared in the darkness.