“That means, M. le Commissioner, that the gesture has become a habit with you—putting on thumb-screws?” M. Mifroid declared that that was not the reason. He often gave himself up to sculpture, and he explained to him that it was the habit of a modeler. He buried his hand in his discoveries, just as he did in his clay.” M. Longuet expressed astonishment that a police commissioner should interest himself in sculpture. However, it afterward transpired that M. Mifroid’s knowledge of this art was the means of their final escape from the catacombs. M. Mifroid, in reporting, the events of the catacombs, wrote as follows: “The way that we were following was a vast passage of four or five meters high. The walls were very dry, and the electric light which lit our way allowed us to see a hard stone, devoid of all vegetation, even of moisture. That proof was not one to rejoice M. Longuet’s heart, for he was beginning to be very thirsty. I knew that in the catacombs there were some threads of running water. I thanked heaven for not putting us on one of these threadlike streams, for we should only have lost time in imbibing there, and, moreover, as we could not carry away any water, it would only have made us more thirsty. “M. Longuet objected to the idea that we were walking without caring where. I resolved to make him understand the necessity of walking on anywhere, in relating to him that which was the truth, that the engineers, when repairing the track, had descended into the catacombs, and had sought in vain to discover their limits, and to find an outlet they were obliged to give it up, and they built those pillars as supports, and built the arch with masons’ materials; they descended directly into the hole, before closing it finally over our heads. Not to discourage M. Longuet, I informed him that, to my knowledge, we could count on at least 520 kilometers of catacombs, but there was not a single reason why they should not have had more. Evidently, if I had not warned him immediately of the difficulty of getting out of there, he would have manifested his despair the second day of the walk. “‘I think, then,’ I said to him, ‘that they have dug this soil from the third to the seventeenth century. For during 1400 years, man had removed from under the soil the materials that were necessary to construct above. If at any time there was not enough above, there was always more below. That above returns below, and goes out thence,’ and as we still found ourselves under the ancient Quarter d’Enfer, I recalled to him that in 1777 a house in the Rue d’Enfer was swallowed up by the earth below. It was precipitated to 28 meters below the soil in its court. Some months later, in 1778, seven persons met death in a similar caving in. I cited still several more recent examples, dwelling upon the accident to persons. He understood, and said to me: ‘In short, it is often more dangerous to walk above than below.’