Barbara in Brittany | Page 6

was due at 7.30, but there did not seem to be the least chance of
getting in at that hour, for, late as they already were, they continued to
lose time on the way. The little Frenchman was their only companion,
and he did not seem to know much English.
However, between his shreds of that language and Barbara's scanty
French she managed to find out that they would not arrive in Paris until
midnight. Aunt Anne expressed her annoyance in no measured terms,
but he merely shrugged his shoulders and smiled, until she collapsed
into a corner speechless with disgust. He left them at Rouen, and
Barbara, watching her aunt sleeping in a corner, wondered what they
would do when they finally did arrive at the station. But, as soon as the
lights of the Gare de Lazare showed through the darkness, Miss Britton
began to bestir herself, and, when the train stopped, marched boldly out
of the carriage as if she had been in Paris dozens of times.
In a little while they were seated in a fiacre, going along through
brightly-lighted streets, feeling very satisfied that they were actually
nearing their destination. But their content did not last long, for soon
leaving the lighted thoroughfares, they turned into a dark road with
high walls on either side, and just a lamp now and then. It really
seemed rather lonely, and they both began to feel uncomfortable and to
wonder if they were being taken to the wrong place. Stories of
mysterious disappearances began to flit through Barbara's brain, and
she started when Aunt Anne said in a very emphatic tone, "He looked a
very nice cabman, quite respectable and honest."
"Yes," Barbara said meekly, though she had hardly noticed him.
"I knew it was some distance from the station, of course."
"Yes," Barbara replied once more, and added, "of course," as Miss
Britton began to look rather fierce.
"It was a little stupid of you not to think of proposing to stay in the
station hotel while I was collecting the wraps," she went on rather
sharply, and Barbara was trying to think of something soothing to say,
when the cab drew up suddenly and they were both precipitated on to

the hat-boxes on the other seat.
Barbara put her hat straight and looked out of the window. It certainly
seemed to be a funny place to which they had come. The houses were
high and narrow, and the one they had stopped at had a dirty archway
without a single light; but, as the driver showed no intention of getting
down and ringing, Barbara stepped out and groped about for a bell or a
knocker of some kind. Then the cabman, pointing with his whip up the
archway, said, "Numero quatorze, par là." The girl did not much relish
going into the darkness by herself, for she was sure there must be some
mistake. But she was afraid that, if Miss Britton got out too, the man
might drive away and leave them, so she begged her aunt to remain in
the cab while she went into the archway to make inquiries. After some
groping she found a bell-rope, and rang three times without receiving
any answer. She was just about to ring again, when she heard stealthy
steps approaching the door, and the next moment it was opened,
disclosing to her frightened gaze a dirty-looking man, wearing a red
nightcap, and carrying a candle in his hand.
Barbara recoiled a step, for though she had been sure there was some
mistake she had not expected anything as bad as this. However, she
managed to gasp out, "Madame Belvoir's?" and was intensely relieved
to see the fellow shake his head. But he leered at her so horribly that
she waited to make no more inquiries, but turned and fled back to the
fiacre.
"This is not the right place," she pouted, "and I'm thankful it
isn't--there's such a horrid man."
"A man! But she was a widow," Aunt Anne said vaguely; and her niece
could not help laughing, for if that were the case there might have been
brothers or sons.
But the cabman was getting very impatient, and it was not an easy
matter to argue with him, for when they insisted that this could not be
14 Rue St. Sulpice, he merely shook his head and persisted that it was.
Then suddenly a light seemed to break upon him, and he asked, "14
Rue St. Sulpice, Courcelles?"

Barbara shook her head violently, and said, "Non, non, Neuilly."
Whereupon with much grumbling and torrents of words that, perhaps, it
was as well she did not understand, he whipped up his horse, and she
had hardly time to scramble into the cab before they swung off.
They were