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ON HIS WAY THROUGH THE WORLD 457
She pounces on a little scrap of paper, and is going to read it by
the light of the steaming stable lanterns, when ________ oh, what made
her start so ? ______
In those old days there used to be two diligences which
travelled nightly to Tours, setting out at the same hour, and
stopping at almost the same relays. The diligence of Lafitte and
Caillard supped at the " Lion Noir " at Orleans—the diligence of
the Messageries Royales stopped at the " Ecu de France," hard by.
Well, as the Messageries Royales are supping at the "Ecu de
France," a passenger strolls over from that coach, and strolls and
strolls until he comes to the coach of Lafitte, Caillard, and Company,
and to the coupé window where Miss Baynes is trying to decipher
her bonbon.
He comes up—and as the night-lamps fall on his face and
beard—his rosy face, his yellow beard—oh ! _________ What means that
scream of the young lady in the coupé of Lafitte, Caillard et
Compagnie! I declare she has dropped the letter which she was
about to read. It has dropped into a pool of mud under the
diligence off fore-wheel. And he with the yellow beard, and a
sweet happy laugh, and a tremble in his deep voice, says, "You
need not read it. It was only to tell you what you know."
Then the coupéwindow says, " Oh, Philip ! Oh, my _________ "
My what? You cannot hear the words, because the grey
Norman horses come squealing and clattering up to their coach-pole
with such accompanying cries and imprecations from the horsekeepers
and postillions, that no wonder the little warble is lost. It
was not intended for you and me to hear; but perhaps you can
guess the purport of the words. Perhaps in quite old old days,
you may remember having heard such little whispers, in a time
when the song-birds in your grove carolled that kind of song very
pleasantly and freely. But this, my good madam, is written in
February. The birds are gone: the branches are bare: the
gardener has actually swept the leaves off the walks: and the
whole affair is an affair of a past year, you understand. Well!
carpe diem, fugit hora, &c. &c. There, for one minute, for two
minutes, stands Philip over the diligence off fore-wheel, talking to
Charlotte at the window, and their heads are quite close—quite
close. What are those two pairs of lips warbling, whispering?
"Hi! Gare! Ohé !" The horsekeepers, I say, quite prevent you
from hearing; and here come the passengers out of the "Lion
Noir," Aunt Mac still munching a great slice of bread-and-butter.
Charlotte is quite comfortable, and does not want anything, dear
aunt, thank you. I hope she nestles in her corner, and has a
sweet slumber. On the journey the twin diligences pass and repass