Rollo in Switzerland | Page 4

Jacob Abbott
and the washing houses, with their long rows of windows, down close to the water, all filled with women, who were washing clothes by alternately plunging them in the water of the river and then banging them with clubs. These and a great many other similar objects attracted their attention as they rode along.
If the reader of this book has the opportunity to look at a map of Paris, he will see that the River Seine, in passing through the town, forms two channels, which separate from each other so as to leave quite a large island between them. This island is completely covered with streets and buildings, some of which are very ancient and venerable. Here is the great Cathedral Church of Notre Dame; also the vast hospital called Hotel Dieu, where twelve thousand sick persons are received and taken care of every year. Here also is the prefecture of police--an enormous establishment, with courts, quadrangles, ranges, offices, and officers without number. In this establishment the records are kept and the business is transacted relating to all the departments of the police of the city; so that it is of itself quite a little town.
The first indication which Rollo had that he had arrived at the place was the turning in of the coach under an arch, which opened in the middle of a very sombre and antique-looking edifice. The carriage, after passing through the arch, came into a court, where there were many other carriages standing. Soldiers were seen too, some coming and going and others standing guard. The carriage passed through this court, and then, going under another arch between two ponderous iron gates, it came into another court, much larger than the first. There were a great many carriages in this court, some moving in or out and others waiting. Rollo's carriage drove up to the farthest corner of the court; and there the coachman stopped and opened the door. Rollo got out. Carlos followed him.
"Where do you suppose we are to go, Carlos?" said he. "Stop; I can see by the signs over the doors. Here it is. "Passports." This must be the place. We will go in here."
Rollo accordingly went in, Carlos timidly following him. After crossing a sort of passage way, he opened another door, which ushered him at once into a very large hall, the aspect of which quite bewildered him. There were a great many desks and tables about the hall, with clerks writing at them, and people coming and going with passports and permits in their hands. Rollo stepped forward into the room, surveying the scene with great curiosity and wonder, when his attention was suddenly arrested by the voice of a soldier, who rose suddenly from his chair, and said,--
"Your cap, young gentleman."
Rollo immediately recollected that he had his cap on, while all the other people in the room were uncovered. He took his cap off at once, saying to the soldier at the same time, "Pardon, sir," which is the French mode of making an apology in such cases. The soldier then resumed his seat, and Rollo and Carlos walked on slowly up the hall.
Nobody took any notice of them. In fact, every one seemed busy with his own concerns, except that in one part of the room there were several benches where a number of men and women were sitting as if they were waiting for something.
Rollo advanced towards these seats, saying to Carlos,--
"Carlos, let us sit down here a minute or two till we can think what we had better do. We can sit here, I know. These benches must be for any body."
As soon as Rollo had taken his seat and began to cast his eyes about the room, he observed that among the other desks there was one with the words, "for foreigners," upon it, in large, gilt letters.
"Carlos," said he, pointing to it, "that must be the place for us. We are foreigners: let us go there. We will give the passports to the man in that little pew."
So Rollo rose, and, followed by Carlos, he went to the place. There was a long desk, with two or three clerks behind it, writing. At the end of this desk was a small enclosure, where a man sat who looked as though he had some authority. People would give him their passports, and he would write something on them and then pass them over to the clerks. Rollo waited a moment and then handed his passports in. The man took them, looked over them and then gave them back to Rollo, saying something in French which Rollo did not understand, and immediately passed to the next in order.
"What did he say?" said Rollo, turning to Carlos.
[Illustration: THE PREFECTURE OF POLICE.]
"What's the reason he won't
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