Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 2).djvu/341

 lation number. Come, come, make haste; the train is about to start.'

Well, I must have a place found for me.'

I have offered you two, Madame, in the coupé.'

There?'

Yes, Madame-there!'

"A little dark-haired woman appeared in the doorway, and instantly started back, as if in alarm.

There are two gentlemen in it!'

Good heavens, Madame! I can't give you a whole carriage to yourself!'

Very well, then; I will not go!'

As you please. The train is off—I am going to give the signal.'

Stay, Monsieur; stay. I must absolutely go; and since there is only this coupé—but you'll let me have a sleeping-compartment at the first station we come to?'

Yes, Madame.'

You'll telegraph for it?'

Yes, yes, Madame.'

You promise me?'

Yes, Madame.'

You are sure?'

Yes, yes, yes, Madame!'

"The door was thrown open wide, and the little brown-haired lady, surrounded by half a carriage-load of parcels and wraps, entered the coupé; a shrill whistle, and—we were off.

"Gallantly the administrative gentleman seated himself by my side, so as to leave the opposite seat entirely at the service of the new arrival.

"Without even turning her eyes towards us, flustered and red with anger, she arranged her parcels around her with the ordinary haste of persons who have long hours to pass in a railway-carriage.

"She had one bag, two bags, three bags, and—as to wraps—!

"Out of the corner of my eyes I watched these little proceedings, and I observed with pleasure that she was a charming little personage. I say with pleasure; for, in truth, it is always more agreeable to have a pretty woman for a travelling companion than an ugly one.

"It was very cold. The country, covered with snow, and lit up by a very pale-faced sun, flew rapidly by on either side of the carriage. The little lady, muffled up to her chin in rugs and other wraps, turned her gaze obstinately out of the farther window; the administrative gentleman put his papers, yellow, green, and blue, with printed headings, in order, and read them attentively; as to myself, comfortably installed in a corner with my feet on the foot-warmer, I waded through the file of newspapers I had bought at the station to pass the time.

"11.21; Laroche. The train stopped. The administrative gentleman gathered up his papers, rose, bowed, and descended from the carriage. His feet had hardly touched the platform before he was received by the station-master, who called him 'Mr. Inspector.' The lady leaned out of the door:—

Mr. Station-master!"

Madame?'

They were to telegraph to you from Paris for a sleeping-carriage.'