My travelling companions were an Austrian
gentleman, his wife and daughter, and three
sons. The father was a portly round-headed
man, wfth large prominent moustachios, and no
beard; his wife a lady-like well-dressed person,
with a courtly manner. The boys were sturdy
little fellows, about ten, seven, and four years
old. The daughter was a pretty blonde of
seventeen, blue-eyed, lively, and radiant with all
the happiness and hopefulness of youth.

M. Rouget saw where my eyes were
magnetically drawn.

"Ha! you fripon," he whispered, "I see you
will have a pleasant journey to Luneville. Ha!
Beautiful young English miss at home, take
care, you are about to lose one of your slaves!"

I laughed, and bantered M. Rouget on his
versatility. " I never before," I said, " heard
you attempt so poetical an ejaculation."

"Ha!" he replied, turning away his green
eyes, " an old lawyer had need be versatile; he
meets many sorts of people, many friends, many
enemies."

I got in, bowed to the family, and took my
seat. I threw my plaid over my keees, I placed
my hat on its peg, I put on my travelling-cap,
and, shutting the door, talked through the open
window to M. Rouget. The stoker and the
driver, wrapped in winter great-coats, and silent
as men of their craft usually are, had already
taken their places on the engine. The guards
seemed invisible, it struck me; but they had,
I supposed, taken their seats in their own
special carriages. Indeed, M. Rouget said so.

It was a peculiarity about M. Rouget's eyes that
they sometimes seemed phosphorescent; they
were phosphorescent now, when he re-slammed
my carriage-door, and screwed the handle round
tight. He was in a state of good-humoured
delight, the corpse was animated, all because I
was going to Luneville in company with a pretty
Austrian blonde and her family!

The bell rang, the last passengers leaped in,
just in time; the engine's mighty heart began
to beat; a red flag was waved in a way I
had never observed before; M. Rouget cried
"Adieu!" there was a smother of white steam
cloud, a battle-rattle echoing from the station
roof, and we were off. Châlons-on-the-Marne,
town-house, cathedral, parish churches,
convents, champagne cellars, beautiful bridge,
adieu!

In continental travelling there is none of that
irrational and disagreeable suspicion so common
in the Island of Islands. I and the Austrian
family soon got acquainted. I and the count
exchanged newspapers and discussed politics.
I won the countess's heart by playing with
the children, and drawing odd faces for them on
the steam of the window. The count, a
good-natured though not a brilliant man, was full of
the rumours of revolution in Paris, and the reports
of republican discontent in the east of France.
He was specially astonished when I told him
of our illustrious fellow-traveller; he could
scarcely "credit the rumour," he said, "as he
had come that very morning from Paris, only
stopping an hour or two to show his daughter
Châlons; and the Journal des Débats announced
that the President would that very day receive
a deputation from Cherbourg. But this may
be a mask," he added, "for the President is a
dark man, and moves in darkness."

Soon after this remark the count fell asleep,
and the countess and the children following suit,
I and the beautiful blonde had the conversation
to ourselves. The sunset began transforming the
whole world with its enchanted light; the crimson
and yellow vine-leaves glowed like burning
metal; the broad grey curtain of western cloud
melted into yellow, and in a moment afterwards
flushed into rose; my companion was enchanted
by the sight, and her beautiful eyes were fixed
on those lines of golden light that seemed like
steps to some Heavenly temple, with absorbed
delight. I was charmed by her enthusiasm, and
told her so. Then we talked about art and music.
Gradually as it became darker we grew silent.
That sunset had undone me; I was in love.

Loisy and Vitry le Francois flew by us; my
fair vis-à-vis had fallen asleep; I was looking
out of window, amusing myself in trying to
distinguish forms in the uncertain light. All I
could see, was, that it was a wide lonely open
country. We must have been somewhere
between Vitry and Blesme when a crackling sound
awoke me. I thought at first it was fancy, but
it increased. It was like the sharp crackle of
fire spreading among straw. I had visited
America and had stood in danger from prairie
fires, and I knew the terrible sound well.

I softly opened the window and looked out.
A gust of hot smoke, mingled with sparks, drove
towards me from the carriage next but one, the
carriage next the luggage-van. The train was
on fire!

I turned to awake my fellow-passeugers, but
some mysterious instinct of fear had already
aroused them. The count was wild with excitement,
the children and the ladies were clinging
together. The count flung open the carriage-
door, and shouted to the guards for help. The
whole train was now alarmed. When I looked
out of the opposite window there were men
thrusting their heads out of every window. But
no guard came or answered. On went the train
at a more tremendous speed than before, swaying
with the fury of its speed, and hurrying on
flaming through the darkness.

"There is but 'one thing to do, count," said
I. " The flame spreads towards us; it will soon
reach the next carriage, which is empty. I will try
and creep along the footboard, and find a guard,
to signal the engine-driver. The wind is high;
no guard hears our voices. Do you remain
firm, and tranquillise the ladies. Dear ladies,
be calm, the train must soon stop!"

I stepped out on the footboard, and, clinging
from window to window, contrived to reach the
guard's carriage. But it was empty. A torn
signal-flag lay on the floor. When I returned, I
found the count gone. No one knew when,
where, or how he had gone; he had either
fallen or thrown himself out. The countess lay