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Updated: June 27, 2025
"What, the devil!" said Phoebus, "you know my name!" "I know not your name alone," continued the man in the mantle, with his sepulchral voice. "You have a rendezvous this evening." "Yes," replied Phoebus in amazement. "At seven o'clock." "In a quarter of an hour." "At la Falourdel's." "Precisely." "The lewd hag of the Pont Saint-Michel." "Of Saint Michel the archangel, as the Pater Noster saith."
On seeing the houses of the Boulevard Saint-Michel he experienced a painful impression and abruptly turned back toward the Observatory. The dog had vanished. Near the monument of the Lion of Belfort, Chevalier stopped in front of a deep trench which cut the road in two. Against the bank of excavated earth, under a tarpaulin supported by four stakes, an old man was keeping vigil before a brazier.
On returning to the sacristy he had torn off his alb, cope, and stole, had flung all into the hands of the stupefied beadle, had made his escape through the private door of the cloister, had ordered a boatman of the Terrain to transport him to the left bank of the Seine, and had plunged into the hilly streets of the University, not knowing whither he was going, encountering at every step groups of men and women who were hurrying joyously towards the Pont Saint-Michel, in the hope of still arriving in time to see the witch hung there, pale, wild, more troubled, more blind and more fierce than a night bird let loose and pursued by a troop of children in broad daylight.
There was still no little talk of that description. The old agitator Auguste Blanqui long confined in one of the cages of Mont Saint-Michel, but now once more in Paris never wearied of opposing peace in the discourses that he delivered at his own particular club, which, like the newspaper he inspired, was called "La Patrie en Danger."
So let us give it all it wants and gorge the fool! The road from Pontorson to the Mont Saint-Michel is wearying on account of the sand. They became more numerous as we approached the sea, and defiled for several miles until we finally saw the deserted strand whence they came.
Hatchets or celts are more numerous than any other objects found beneath dolmens of Brittany. A report, read by M. R. Galles to the Societe Polymathique of Morbihan, enumerates the objects found with the dead beneath the dolmen of Saint-Michel.
They assembled in Paris in two localities, near the fish-market, in a wine-shop called Corinthe, of which more will be heard later on, and near the Pantheon in a little cafe in the Rue Saint-Michel called the Cafe Musain, now torn down; the first of these meeting-places was close to the workingman, the second to the students.
The University had six gates, built by Philip Augustus; there were, beginning with la Tournelle, the Porte Saint-Victor, the Porte Bordelle, the Porte Papale, the Porte Saint-Jacques, the Porte Saint-Michel, the Porte Saint-Germain.
To compensate for the time lost at the dressmakers, we had two long beautiful mornings at the Louvre and a Sunday afternoon at the Luxembourg, followed by a cup of tea and a pleasant, sociable half-hour at the Students' Hostel, on the Boulevard Saint-Michel, a delightful, homelike inn where many young women who are studying in Paris find a home amid congenial surroundings.
The City then had five bridges: three on the right, the Pont Notre-Dame, and the Pont au Change, of stone, the Pont aux Meuniers, of wood; two on the left, the Petit Pont, of stone, the Pont Saint-Michel, of wood; all loaded with houses.
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