He continued to advance along the quay on the shore.
His position was visibly becoming critical.
What was he intending to do, if not to throw himself into the Seine?♂本♂作♂品♂由♂思♂兔♂在♂線♂閱♂讀♂網♂友♂整♂理♂上♂傳♂
Henceforth, there existed no means of ascending to the quay; there was no other inclined plane, no staircase; and they were near the spot, marked by the bend in the Seine towards the Pont de Jena, where the bank, growing constantly narrower, ended in a slender tongue, and was lost in the water.
There he would inevitably find himself blocked between the perpendicular wall on his right, the river on his left and in front of him, and the authorities on his heels.
It is true that this termination of the shore was hidden from sight by a heap of rubbish six or seven feet in height, produced by some demolition or other.
But did this man hope to conceal himself effectually behind that heap of rubbish, which one need but skirt? The expedient would have been puerile.
He certainly was not dreaming of such a thing.
The innocence of thieves does not extend to that point.
The pile of rubbish formed a sort of projection at the water''s edge, which was prolonged in a promontory as far as the wall of the quay.
The man who was being fo