At last everyone had succeeded in finding what he or she sought. Friquet, who was anxious to go to bed, had been standing a long while on the landing, candle in hand, ready to light us downstairs. As for the master and mistress of the house, they had manifested clearly enough their desire to see the last of us; so we started down. It was quite a little procession; everyone took the hand of his favorite and descended the stairs, laughing heartily over the evening's entertainment. The young men were very noisy, because Vauvert had urged them to be silent on account of his neighbors. On the second floor, a young man upset the candlestick that Friquet carried, and we found ourselves in utter darkness. We all roared with laughter. The mammas scolded the perpetrator of the mischief, the young ladies did the same, but I have reason to believe that many of them were not very angry. "Idiot! he's always doing such things!" Vauvert shouted at his nephew from the top of the stairs. "I didn't do it, uncle," replied the clerk; "somebody knocked my candle out of my hand on purpose." "I not untershtand vy tay do amuse temselfs py making us near fall town and may pe hurt ourselfs," muttered the Baron de Witcheritche, whom I believed to be very jealous of his wife, and who was made uneasy by the darkness. "Holt tidt to te rail, my tear," said the baroness, in a flutelike little voice, "and tague care ov my Shtradifarius." "Your Shtradifarius is chust te ting tat makes me frighted." We went down carefully and very softly. I held Madame de Marsan's hand, and I did not complain of the darkness; but the little clerk, who had relighted his candle at the porter's lodge, returned with his light just as we reached the lowest stair. I noticed then some changes in the order of departure; some mantles awry, some faces very much excited, and many eyes fastened on the ground, doubtless because the light made them smart; but I do not mean to suggest any implications unfavorable to the virtue of the ladies in question, married or single. The moment to say farewell had arrived. I saw diverse poor fellows who lived near the Palais-Royal doomed to act as escort to feminine families from the heart of the Marais. I saw young ladies manoeuvre to take the arms of their chosen friends; I saw many a wife sigh as she took her husband's arm. I should have seen much else, no doubt, if it had not been dark. But Madame de Marsan and her husband were in their carriage; and he, learning that I lived on Rue Saint-Florentin, obligingly offered me a seat. I accepted without hesitation. Decidedly Monsieur de Marsan was a most agreeable man. "There's no one else!" Friquet shouted to the concierge, as he closed the porte cochère.