Although by this time the days had lengthened, and we were in the height of summer, it was now time that we should turn our steps homeward, as the distance we had to go was nearly four leagues; and during the whole of the following day I waited in anxious expectation for the appearance of one of the two merchants. No one came, however, and another and another day succeeded, during which I scarcely stirred out, and left directions for finding me whenever I did so. At the end of the third day my patience became quite exhausted, and on the following morning I begged Arnon to send off one of the prince's servants, who knew the capital well, to ask why Master Martin Vern had not been to Champigny. Arnon did as I directed immediately; and, on bearing me the answer, which was, that neither Martin Vern nor his nephew had yet returned from Blois, where they had gone to attend upon the king, added, in order to put my mind at rest upon the subject which he thought troubled me, that I might make myself quite easy about the money; for that, having made inquiries, he found that the house of Martin Vern was one of the most wealthy and respectable in Paris. I could not help exclaiming, "Pshaw! it is not the money, my good friend." And it was evident, from that moment, that Arnon's curiosity was not a little excited to find out what it could be that I sought with the merchants, if it was not the money that they owed me. My determination, however, was now taken to seek the house of the Baron de Blancford myself; but not all my efforts could discover it, and it was equally in vain that I attempted to discover the abode of Solomon Ahar: that he was going to lodge at the house of his cousin Levi I knew; but his cousin Levi was not to be discovered; and, on making inquiries concerning him, I was always met by a demand of "Levi who?" there being a thousand in Paris of the name of Levi, but all with some surname attached. In the mean time, the news that daily came in from the scene of the war was anything but such as to give me gratification. The feeble attack on Poitiers by the Protestants; the gallant defence of the young Duke of Guise; the siege of St. Jean d'Angely; the death of poor Martigue, whom I could not help regretting; the fatal battle of Moncontour, which, although the defeat of the Protestants was as complete, and the success of the Catholics as surprising as well need be, was magnified in Paris in a very great degree; all these things grieved and pained me, while week after week went by in fruitless inquiries; and at length, with that sort of scorn of one's self, which is a true part of misanthropy, for giving a moment's credit to the Jew's professions of gratitude, I sat me down in bitterness of spirit, and tried to fancy that I hated the whole human race.