He had forgotten his passport, and, on arriving at a small town, was arrested by a gendarme and taken before the maire.

The maire took up a needle-like pen, dipped it in the ink, and with a sigh wrote in fragile but firm characters "X—— Y——."

It was the voice of the maire, whom Robert had made friends with in his hunger for human companionship.

The maire sat in his parlour at the Hôtel de Ville dictating to his secretary.