Moneyless, what was to become of me?
Watchless and moneyless, with a bill awaiting me at my hotel, and not a stiver in my pocket wherewith to pay it....

Miserable pupil of a stern master! luckless son of a savage father! to whom could I turn for help?
Not certainly to Dr.
Cheron, whom I had been ready to accuse, half an hour ago, of having stolen my watch and purse.

Petty larceny and Dr.Cheron! how ludicrously incongruous! And yet, where was my property?
Was the Hotel des Messageries a den of thieves?
And again, how was it that this same Dr.
Cheron looked, and spoke, and acted, as if he had never seen me in his life till this morning?
Was I mad, or dreaming, or both?
The carriage stopped and the door opened.
"Hotel Dieu, M'sieur," said the servant, touching his hat.
Dr.Cheron just raised his eyes from the paper.
"This is your first destination," he said.

"I would advise you, on leaving here, to return to your hotel.

There may be letters awaiting you.