Chapter III.
Journey to Paris
The omnibus which Mr. George and Rollo had entered contained several other passengers, some of whom had carpet bags and valises with them, as if they, too, were going to Paris. Besides the driver, there was a conductor, whose place was upon the step of the omnibus, behind. The conductor opened and shut the doors for the passengers when they wished to get in or out, and took the fare.
"How much is the fare?" said Rollo to Mr. George.
"I don't know," said Mr. George, shaking his head. He spoke, however, in a very unconcerned tone, as if it were of very little consequence whether he knew or not.
"What are you going to do about it, then?" said Rollo.
"I shall say, 'How much?' to him, when we get out; and then, if I do not understand his answer, I shall give him a large piece of money, and let him give me back as much change as he likes."
Rollo resolved that he would do so too.
Next to Mr. George and Rollo in the omnibus there sat a gentleman and lady, who seemed to be, as they really were, a new-married pair. They were making their bridal tour. The lady was dressed plainly, but well, in travelling costume, and she had a handsome morocco carriage bag hanging upon her arm. The gentleman was quite loaded with shawls, and boxes, and umbrellas, and small bags, which he had upon his lap or at his feet. Besides this, the lady had a trunk, which, together with that of her husband, had been left behind, to come on the cart. She was very anxious about this trunk, for it contained all her fine dresses. Her husband was interested in the novel sights and scenes that presented themselves to view in passing along the street; but she thought only of the trunk.
"What strange costumes, Estelle!" said he. "Look! See that woman! What a funny cap!"
"Yes," said Estelle; "but, Charley, don't you think it would have been better for us to have brought our trunks with us on the omnibus?"
"I don't know," said her husband. "It is too late to think of that now. I've no doubt that they are safe enough where they are. Look! There's a girl with wooden shoes on. Those are the wooden shoes we have read about so often in books. Look!"
Estelle glanced her eyes, for an instant, toward the wooden shoes, and then began to look back along the street again, watching anxiously for the trunks.
At length the omnibus approached the station. It entered through a magnificent portal, under an arch. There was a soldier walking back and forth, with his musket in his hand, bayonet fixed, to guard the entrance. None but actual travellers were allowed to enter. The omnibus, having entered the court, stopped before a splendid portico, where there was a door leading into the building. The passengers paid their fares, and got out. On entering the building, they found themselves in a spacious apartment, with a great variety of partitions, offices, enclosures, and railings, presenting themselves on every hand, the meaning of all which it was very difficult to understand. There were also signs marked first class, and second class, and third class, and placards of notices to travellers, and time tables, and various similar things. On the back side of the room were doors and windows, looking out to a platform, where the train of cars was seen, apparently all ready to set off. But the partitions and railings which were in the way prevented the company from going out there.
There were a number of travellers in this room, several parties having arrived there before the omnibus came. Many of these persons were waiting quietly, talking in little groups, or resting themselves by sitting upon their carpet bags. Others were looking about eagerly and anxiously, wondering what they were to do, or trying to find somebody who could tell them about the baggage. Estelle was the most restless and uneasy of all. She went continually to the door to look down the road, to see if the cart was coming.
"Charles," said she, "what a shame it is that they don't come with the trunks! The train is all ready, and will go off before they come."
"O, no," said her husband; "I think not. Don't be anxious about them. I've no doubt they will be here in time. Come with me, and let us look about the station, and see how it differs from ours."
But Estelle would not allow her thoughts to be diverted from her trunk. She remained on the steps, looking anxiously down the road. Some of the other passengers who were unused to travelling, seeing her look so anxious, and not understanding what she said, supposed that some accident had happened, or that some unusual delay had occurred, and they began to be anxious too. Just then a bell began to ring out upon the platform.
"There!" exclaimed Estelle. "The train is going! What shall we do? Why can't you ask somebody, Charles?"
"Why, I can't speak French," said Charles; "and they would not understand me if I ask in English."
"Yes they would," said Estelle; "I'm sure they would. There are so many English travellers going on these roads now, that it must be that they have men here that speak English. There's a man," said she, pointing to a person in livery who was standing within a sort of enclosure.
Mr. Charles, thus urged, walked across the hall to the railing, though very reluctantly, and asked the man if he could tell him why the trunks did not come.
"Sir?" said the man, in French, and looking as if he did not understand.
"Do you speak English?" asked Mr. Charles.
"There," said the man, pointing across the room. Mr. Charles looked, and saw another man, who, by the livery or uniform which he wore, seemed to be a porter belonging to the station, standing by a window. He accordingly went across to ask the question of him.
"Do you speak English, sir?" said he.
"Yes, sare," replied the man, speaking with great formality, and in a very foreign accent, making, at the same time, a very polite bow.
"What is the reason that our baggage does not come?" asked Mr. Charles.
"Yes, sare," replied the porter, speaking in the same manner.
"Why does not it come?" asked Mr. Charles again. "We put it upon a cart at the custom-house, and why does not it come?"
"Yes, sare," replied the porter, with another very polite bow.
Mr. Charles, perceiving that the porter's knowledge of English consisted, apparently, in being able to say, "Yes, sir," and mortified at the absurd figure which he made in attempting to make useless inquiries in such a way, bowed in his turn, and went back to Estelle in a state of greater alienation of heart from her than he had ever experienced before. And as this book may, perhaps, be read sometimes by girls as well as boys, I will here, for their benefit, add the remark, that there is no possible way by which a lady can more effectually destroy any kind feeling which a gentleman may entertain for her than by forcing him to exhibit himself thus in an awkward and ridiculous light, by her unreasonable exactions on journeys, or rides, or walks, or excursions of any kind that they may be taking together.
Rollo and his uncle George had witnessed this scene, and had both been much interested in watching the progress of it. Rollo did not know but that there was some real cause for solicitude about the baggage, especially as several of the lady passengers who were standing with Estelle at the door seemed to be anxiously looking down the road.
"Do you feel any anxiety about our trunks coming?" asked Rollo.
"Not the least," said Mr. George, quietly.
"Why not?" asked Rollo. "Are you sure that they will come?"
"No," said Mr. George; "but there are a good many excellent reasons why I should not feel any anxiety about them. In the first place, I have some little confidence in the railway arrangements made in this country. The French are famous all the world over for their skill in systematizing and regulating all operations of this kind, so that they shall work in the most sure and perfect manner. It does not seem at all probable to me, therefore, that they can manage so clumsily here, on one of the great lines between England and France, as to get all the trunks of a whole steamer load of passengers upon a cart, and then loiter with it on the way to the station, and let the train go off without it."
"Well," said Rollo, "that's a good reason; but you said there were several."
"Another is, that, if they are capable of managing so clumsily as to have such a thing happen, we cannot help it, and have nothing to do but to bear it quietly. We put our trunks in the proper place to have them brought here. We could not have done otherwise, with propriety, for that was the regular mode provided for conveying the baggage; and if there is a failure to get it here, we are not to fret about it, but to take it as we would a storm, or a break down, or any other casualty—that is, take it quietly."
"Yes," said Rollo; "that's a good reason. Are there any more?"
"There is one more," said Mr. George; "and that is, I am not anxious about the trunks coming in season, for I don't care a fig whether they come or not."
"O, uncle George!" exclaimed Rollo.
"I do not," said Mr. George; "for if they do not come, the only consequence will be, that we shall have to wait two or three hours for the next train, which will give us just time to ramble about a little in this queer-looking town of Dieppe, and get some breakfast, and perhaps have some curious adventures in trying to talk French. In fact, I rather hope the baggage won't come."
Mr. George was destined to be disappointed in this rising desire, for, while he and Rollo were talking, Estelle came running in to her husband with a countenance full of joy, saying that the cart had come, and urging him to come and get their trunks off as quick as possible. Her eagerness was increased by hearing the bell again, which now began to toll, leading her to think that the train was going off immediately. The porters, however, whose business it was to carry the trunks in, did not seem to be at all disturbed by the sound, but began to take off the trunks, one by one, and convey them up into the station. Here they were placed upon a sort of counter, from whence they were taken off on the other side, and weighed in a curiously contrived pair of scales placed there for the purpose. If any trunk weighed over a certain number of pounds,—the amount which, according to the regulations of the road, each passenger was allowed to carry,—then the surplus had to be paid for. There was a little office close to the weighing machine; and as fast as the trunks were weighed, the result was reported to the clerk, who made out a bill for the surplus, whatever it was, and the passenger paid it through an opening. If there was no surplus weight, then they gave the passenger a similar bill, which was to be his check for his trunk at the end of the journey. Every thing was, however, so admirably arranged, that all this was done very rapidly.
Mr. Charles, when he found that the trunks were all to be weighed, proposed to go with Estelle to the cars, so as to get a good seat for her; but Estelle chose to remain and make sure that her trunk was attended to. It happened that Mr. George's trunk and Rollo's were weighed among the first; and as soon as they got their checks, Mr. George said,—
"Now for our seats in the cars."
"But which way are we to go?" said Rollo.
"I don't know," said Mr. George. "Go and show that man your ticket, and ask him where we are to go."
"In French?" said Rollo.
"Yes," said Mr. George.
So Rollo went to the man who was standing by a sort of gateway which led through a partition railing, as if he were there to guard the passage; and holding up his little pasteboard ticket, he said, in French,—
"Where to go?"
The man looked at the ticket, and, seeing that first class was printed upon it, he pointed in a certain direction, and said something in French, speaking, however, in so rapid and voluble a manner, that Rollo could not understand a single word. He, however, understood the sign.
"This way, uncle George," said Rollo. "He says we must go this way."
Following the indication which the man had given, Mr. George and Rollo passed out upon the platform, where they found the train ready for them. There were various attendants upon the platform, dressed in a quaint sort of uniform, the livery, as it were, of the railroad company. One of them looked at Rollo's ticket, and then opened the door of a first-class car. The cars were made like those in England, in separate compartments, each compartment being like a large coach, with one front seat, and one back, facing each other. There were four places; that is, room for four passengers on each seat. Of course, only those at the ends were near the window. Rollo and Mr. George took the two seats nearest the window on the side where they got in, as one of the seats at the opposite side was already occupied by a gentleman. The gentleman seemed to be an Englishman, for he was reading the London Times.
Rollo and Mr. George had been seated only two or three minutes before Estelle and her husband came along, Estelle leading the way. The attendant opened the door of the car, and Estelle, followed by her husband, got in. They passed between Mr. George and Rollo, and stood there for a moment, looking about for a good seat. A freight train was slowly trundling by at this time on an adjoining track, so that what they said was not very audible; but still, Mr. George and Rollo could hear it.
"I want a seat by the window," said Estelle, "where I can look out and see the country. Ask that gentleman if he would not be willing to take a middle seat, and let us sit together by the window."
"We had better go to some other car," said her husband, in an undertone. "He wishes to see the country, probably, himself, and has come early, perhaps, so as to get a good seat."
"O, no," said Estelle; "this is a very nice car; and he would just as soon change as not, I have no doubt. Ask him, Charley; do."
So Estelle moved to one side for her husband to pass. Mr. Charles, thus urged, approached the gentleman, and said, in a very bland and respectful manner,—
"Should you have any objection, sir, to move your seat, so as to let this lady sit by the window?"
The gentleman raised his eyes from his paper, and looked at Mr. Charles an instant, and then answered quietly,—
"I prefer this seat, sir."
He then went on with his reading as before.
Estelle pouted her lip, and said, though in a tone too low, perhaps, for the gentleman to hear, "What a rude man!"
"We will give you these seats, sir," said Mr. George, "if you would like them."
"Yes, they'll do just as well," said Estelle, speaking to her husband.
Mr. George rose, and saying, "Come, Rollo," he left the car.
Mr. George had some trouble in looking for other seats; but at length he succeeded in finding two that were as good as those which they had left.
"I think she might at least have thanked you for giving up your seat to accommodate her," said Rollo.
"I did not do it to accommodate her," said Mr. George; "I did it to get out of the sight and hearing of her. I would not ride from here to Paris in the same car with such a fussmaker for all the prospects in France. I had rather be shut up in a freight car."
"How much trouble she makes her husband!" said Rollo.
"It is not the trouble," said Mr. George, "it is the mortification and annoyance. She is a perpetual torment. If that's the way that young wives treat their husbands on the bridal tour, I'm thankful that I am not a bridegroom."
The train soon set out, and Mr. George and Rollo, forgetting Estelle, soon began to enjoy the ride. They were both extremely interested in the views which they obtained from their windows as they passed along, and with the antique and quaint appearance of the country—the ancient stone cottages, with thatched roofs; the peasants, in their picturesque dresses; the immense tracts of cultivated country, divided in green and brown patches, like the beds of a garden, but with no fences or enclosures of any kind to be seen; the great forests, with trees planted closely in rows, like the corn in an American cornfield; and the roadways which they occasionally passed—immense avenues, bordered on either hand with double rows of majestic trees, and extending across the country, as straight as the street of a city, till lost in the horizon. These and a thousand other things, which were all the time presenting themselves to view, kept the travellers continually full of wonder and delight.
After going on thus for several hours, the train stopped in a very spacious depot, where there was a large refreshment room; and as one of the attendants called out that there would be ten minutes of rest, both Mr. George and Rollo got out, and went into the refreshment room. They found a great multitude of cakes and meats spread out upon an immense counter, and dishes of every kind, all totally unknown to them. They, of course, could not call for any thing; but, after taking a survey, they helped themselves to what they thought looked as if it might be good, and then paid in the same way, by letting the girls that attended the tables help themselves to money which the travellers held out to them in their hands. They then took their seats again in the car, and soon afterward the train moved on.
The place where they had stopped was Rouen, which, as well as Dieppe and Paris, the reader will find, on examining any map of France. In the course of the ride from Rouen to Paris, Mr. George and Rollo fell into quite a conversation, in which Rollo received a great deal of very good advice from Mr. George in respect to the care of himself when he should get to Paris.
"I suppose that I should be sure to get lost," said Rollo, "if I should attempt to go out in such a great city alone."
"No," said Mr. George, "not at all. A person can walk about a great way, sometimes, in a strange city, without getting lost. All he has to do is to take care, at first, to go only in such directions as that he can keep the way home in his mind."
"I don't know what you mean, exactly, by that," said Rollo.
"Why, suppose you were in a great city, and you come out at the door of your hotel, and there you find a long, straight street. You walk along that street half a mile. Then don't you think you could find your way home?"
"Yes," said Rollo.
"Certainly," said Mr. George, "because you have it in your mind that the way home is directly back by that same street, till you come to the hotel. Now, suppose that, after going along in that street for half a mile, you should come to a great church, upon a corner, and should turn there to the right, and go for some distance in another street leading off from the first one; don't you think you could then find your way home?"
"Yes," said Rollo, "I should go back to the church, and then turn to the left, and so go home."
"Very well," said Mr. George; "by proceeding cautiously in that way, carrying your way home in your mind with you all the time, you can ramble a great deal about a strange city without getting lost, and go farther and farther every day.
"Then, besides, if you do get lost, it is of no consequence. You can always ask the way back; or, if worst comes to worst, you can take a cab, and tell the man to drive you home."
"Yes," said Rollo, "I suppose I could always do that."
"Only you must be sure," said Mr. George, "not to forget the name of your hotel. Once I was walking about in Paris, and I saw a colored girl on the sidewalk, before me, who seemed to be inquiring something of the people that she met, without appearing to get any satisfactory answer. I thought she was an American girl; and so I went to her, and asked her in French what she wanted to know—for I observed that she was speaking French. She said she wished to know what was the name of the hotel where most of the Americans lodged. I could not speak French very well myself, and so I could not ask her for any explanations; but I supposed that she belonged to some American party, and had lost her way in going somewhere of an errand, and had forgotten the name of the hotel. So I told her the names of two or three hotels where Americans were accustomed to lodge, and she went away."
"Did she find her own hotel?" asked Rollo.
"I don't know," said Mr. George. "I never knew what became of her."
"How did she learn French, do you suppose?" asked Rollo.
"I presume she came from New Orleans," replied Mr. George, "where nearly all the people speak French."
Thus our two travellers beguiled their journey, by talking sometimes about the novel and curious objects which presented themselves to view, in the landscape, as the train rolled rapidly along on its way, and sometimes about what they expected to see and to do on their arrival in Paris. At length, the indications that they were approaching the great capital began to multiply on every hand. The villages were more frequent. Villas, parks, and palaces came into view; and here and there an ancient castle reposed on the slope of a distant hill, or frowned from its summit. At length, Rollo, turning his head to the window opposite to the one where he had been looking out, exclaimed suddenly,—
"Look there! Uncle George, what's that?"
Mr. George said that that was Napoleon's famous Triumphal Arch, that forms the grand entrance to Paris, on the way to the royal palaces. It was a large, square building, splendidly adorned with sculptures and architectural ornaments, and towering high into the air out of the midst of a perfect sea of houses, streets, avenues, trees, gardens, and palaces, which covered the whole country around. It stood upon a commanding elevation, which made its magnitude and its height seem all the more impressive. Through the centre of it was a magnificent archway, wide enough for four carriages to pass abreast.
"It is the Triumphal Arch," said Mr. George, "by which all grand processions enter Paris on great public days of rejoicing. We will go out and see it some day. It is called the Triumphal Arch of Neuilly, because it is on the road that leads to Neuilly."3
By this time the Triumphal Arch had passed out of view, and presently the train of cars began to be shut in by buildings, and the usual indications appeared of the approach to a great station. Queer-looking signals, of mysterious meaning,—some red, some blue, some round, some square,—glided by, and men in strange and fantastic costumes stood on the right hand and on the left, with little flags in their hands, and one arm extended, as if to show the locomotive the way.
At length the convoy (as the French call a railway train) came to a stand, and an attendant, in uniform, opened the door of the car. Mr. George and Rollo got out and looked about, quite bewildered with the magnificence of the scene around them. The station was very extensive, and was very splendid in its construction, and there were immense numbers of people going and coming in it in all directions. Still, every thing was so well regulated that there was no disorder or confusion. There was a line of carriages drawn up in a certain place near the platform; but the coachmen remained quietly by them, awaiting calls from the passengers, instead of vociferously and clamorously offering their services, as is customary at the stations in America. Nor was there any pushing or crowding for trunks and baggage. In fact, the trunks were all to be examined before they could go into the city; for there are separate duties for the city of Paris, in addition to those for France. The baggage was, therefore, all taken from the baggage car, and arranged in an immense apartment, on counters, which extended all around the sides, and up and down the middle; and then, when all was ready, the passengers were admitted, and each one claimed his own. Mr. George and Rollo easily found their trunks, and, on presenting their tickets, an officer required them to open the trunks, that he might see if there was any thing contraband inside. As soon, however, as he perceived that Mr. George and Rollo were foreigners, and that their trunks had come from beyond sea, he shut down the lids again, saying, "It is well." A porter then took the trunks and carried them out to a carriage.
"Hotel of the Rhine, Place Vendome," said Mr. George, in French, to the coachman, by way of directing him where to go.
"Yes—yes—yes—yes," said the coachman.
It is so natural and easy for the French to talk, that they generally use all the words they can to express their meaning, besides an infinity of gestures. Thus, when they wish to say yes, they often repeat the yes four or five times, in a very rapid manner, thus:—
Yes—yes—yes—yes.
Mr. George got into the coach, and Rollo followed him. As they drove along the streets, Rollo tried to look out the window and see; but the window was so small, and the streets were so narrow, and the coachman, moreover, drove so fast, that he had very little opportunity to make observations. At length he caught a momentary glimpse of a monstrous column standing in the middle of an open square; and immediately afterward the carriage drove in under an archway, and came to a stand, in a small, open court, surrounded with lofty buildings. This was the hotel. There was a small room, which served as a porter's lodge, in this court, near where the coach stopped. A girl came to the door of this lodge to receive the guests. She bowed to Mr. George and Rollo with great politeness, and seemed glad to see them. Mr. George spoke to her in French, to say what rooms he wished to engage. What he said, literally translated, was this:—
"We want two chambers for ourselves, at the third, and an apartment of three pieces, at the second, for a gentleman, lady, and their young girl, whom we attend to-morrow."
The girl, who was very neatly and prettily dressed, and was very agreeable in her manners, immediately said, "Very well," and rang a bell. A servant man came at the summons, and, taking the trunks, showed Mr. George and Rollo up to their rooms.