Back Down and Out in Paris and London Save as PDF
Chapters (38)
  1. Chapter I
  2. Chapter II
  3. Chapter III
  4. Chapter IV
  5. Chapter V
  6. Chapter VI
  7. Chapter VII
  8. Chapter VIII
  9. Chapter IX
  10. Chapter X
  11. Chapter XI
  12. Chapter XII
  13. Chapter XIII
  14. Chapter XIV
  15. Chapter XV
  16. Chapter XVI
  17. Chapter XVII
  18. Chapter XVIII
  19. Chapter XIX
  20. Chapter XX
  21. Chapter XXI
  22. Chapter XXII
  23. Chapter XXIII
  24. Chapter XXIV
  25. Chapter XXV
  26. Chapter XXVI
  27. Chapter XXVII
  28. Chapter XXVIII
  29. Chapter XXIX
  30. Chapter XXX
  31. Chapter XXXI
  32. Chapter XXXII
  33. Chapter XXXIII
  34. Chapter XXXIV
  35. Chapter XXXV
  36. Chapter XXXVI
  37. Chapter XXXVII
  38. Chapter XXXVIII

‘I tell you, those five days were the devil. The only good thing was, I had my rent paid in advance. I was living in a dirty, cheap little hotel in the Rue Sainte Éloïse up in the Latin quarter. It was called the Hôtel——, after some famous prostitute who was born in that quarter, I expect. I was starving, and there was nothing I could do; I couldn’t even go to the cafes where the hotel proprietors come to engage waiters, because I hadn’t the price of a drink. All I could do was to lie in bed getting weaker and weaker, and watching the bugs running about the ceiling. I don’t want to go through that again, I can tell you.

‘In the afternoon of the fifth day I went half mad; at least, that’s how it seems to me now. There was an old faded print of a woman’s head hanging on the wall of my room, and I took to wondering who it could be; and after about an hour I realised that it must be Sainte Éloïse, who was the patron saint of the quarter. I had never taken any notice of the thing before, but now, as I lay staring at it, a most extraordinary idea came into my head.

‘“Écoute, mon cher,” I said to myself, “you’ll be starving to death if this goes on much longer. You’ve got to do something. Why not try a prayer to Sainte Éloïse? Go down on your knees and ask her to send you some money. After all, it can’t do any harm. Try it!”

‘Mad, eh? Still, a man will do anything when he’s hungry. Besides, as I said, it couldn’t do any harm. I got out of bed and began praying. I said:

‘“Dear Sainte Éloïse, if you exist, please send me some money. I don’t ask for much–just enough to buy some bread and a bottle of wine and get my strength back. Three or four francs would do. You don’t know how grateful I’ll be, Sainte Éloïse, if you help me this once. And be sure, if you send me anything, the first thing I’ll do will be to go and burn a candle for you, at your church down the street. Amen.”

‘I put in that about the candle, because I had heard that saints like having candles burnt in their honour. I meant to keep my promise, of course. But I am an atheist and I didn’t really believe that anything would come of it.