was chronicled by Reuter. Next he was setting out for Trondhiem, whence
in a few days he would join his friend Bjornstjerne Bjornson, the
novelist, at the latter's estate of Aulestad in the Gudbrandsdalen.
Bjornson, as it happened, was then at Munich, in Germany, but this
circumstance did not weigh for a moment with the newspapers. The Norway
story was so generally accepted that a report was spread to the effect
that M. Zola had solicited an audience of the Emperor William, who was in
Norway about that time, and that the Kaiser had peremptorily refused to
see him, so great was the Imperial desire to do nothing of a nature to
give umbrage to France.

As I have already mentioned, the only true reports (so far as London was
concerned) were those of two English newspapers, but even they were
inaccurate in several matters of detail. For instance, the lady currently
spoken of as Mme. Zola was my own wife, who, it so happens, is a
Frenchwoman. At a later stage the 'Daily Mail' hit the nail on the head
by signalling M. Zola's presence at the Oatlands Park Hotel; but so many
reports having already proved erroneous, the 'Mail' was by no means
certain of the accuracy of its information, and the dubitative form in
which its statement was couched prevented the matter from going further.

At last a period of comparative quiet set in, and though gentlemen of the
Press were still anxious to extract information from me, nothing further
appeared in print as to M. Zola's whereabouts until the 'Times' Paris
correspondent, M. de Blowitz, contributed to his paper, early in the
present year, a most detailed and amusing account of M. Zola's flight
from France and his subsequent movements in exile. In this narrative one
found Mme. Zola equipping her husband with a nightgown for his perilous
journey abroad, and secreting bank notes in the lining of his garments.
Then, carrying a slip of paper in his hand, the novelist had been passed