M. Lecamus, stupefied, looked up into the air, and was wondering to himself how on earth his friend could have disappeared in such a way, when suddenly piercing cries came from the room, and a voice yelled out, “Help! Robbers! Murder! Help!” Fearing some dreadful act, Adolphe rushed into the hotel. The passers-by were stopping in the street, and before long a crowd had collected. He leapt over the vast stairway with the agility of a young man, and arrived on the first landing at the moment the door opened, and Théophraste appeared, hat in hand. He was bowing to an old lady, whose teeth were chattering from fright, and whose hair was all done up in curl papers. “Dear madame,” he was saying, “if I had believed for one instant that I would have caused you such surprise, I would have remained downstairs. I am neither a robber, nor an assassin, my dear madam. All this is the fault of my friend Adolphe, who wanted me to show him how Simon L’Auvergnat could serve me as the base of a column.” Adolphe had already seized his arm, and was drawing him toward the stairway. He made signs to the lady from behind Théophraste trying to make her understand that his friend was off his head. Thereupon, she fell unconscious into the hands of a chambermaid, and the stairway was soon filled with a crowd. Adolphe profited by this to take Théophraste away. They passed through without hindrance, and were soon in the street again. Adolphe seemed not to hear Théophraste’s protests. With one hand he dragged him towards the Rue Huchette, and with the other dried the sweat which was running down his forehead. “Where are you taking me to?” asked Théophraste. “To the house of one of my friends in the Rue Huchette.” When they reached the house in the Rue Huchette, they passed under a red porch, and into a very old house. Adolphe seemed to know the people, for he did not wait to be ushered in. He made Théophraste climb half a dozen stone steps which were extremely worn, and pushed open a thick door which was at the end of the court. They were now in a sort of vestibule, lighted by a large lamp in the shape of a huge ball, suspended by iron chains from the stone ceiling. “Wait for me here,” said Adolphe, after having closed the door by which they had entered. He promised not to be long and disappeared. Théophraste seated himself in a large armchair, and looked around him. What he saw on the wall amused him. There was an incredible quantity of words painted in black letters. They seemed to cover the whole surface of the wall, in no sort of order at all. He spelt some of them. There was Iris, Thabet, Rush, Jakin, Bokez, Thebe, Paracaler, and the word “Iboah,” which appeared in many places. Turning toward the other wall, against which he had been leaning, he saw a Sphinx and the Pyramids.