And again a whiskered Spaniard all the land with terror smote;
And again the wild alarum from the tocsin’s throat,—
Till the bell of Ghent responded o’er lagoon and dike of sand,
“I am Roland! I am Roland! there is victory in the land!”
Then the sound of drums aroused me. The awakened city’s roar
Chased the phantoms I had summoned back into their graves once more.
Hours had passed away like minutes; and, before I was aware,
Lo! the shadow of the belfry crossed the sun-illumined square.
On entering Normandy, Master Lewis engaged passages on diligences, wherever a promise of a route amid pleasant scenery offered itself. It seemed to be the boys’ greatest delight to ride on the top of a diligence.
These French stage-coaches are lofty, lumbering vehicles, composed of three parts. The front division is called coupé, and is shaped somewhat like an old-time chariot. It holds three persons. Next is the intérieur or inside, holding six persons, an apartment much shunned in pleasant weather in summer time. Behind is the rotonde which collects “dust, dirt, and bad company.” Over all is the banquette, a castle-like position on the top of the coupé, a seat protected by a hood, or head, and leather apron.
To secure this seat beside the “driver” was Tommy Toby’s highest ambition, when about to leave a newly visited place.
In one of these rides, when Tommy and Wyllys Wynn occupied this high seat, Tommy said to the driver,—
“It seems strange to me to find such great forests in old countries like England, Belgium, and France. I fancied that great tracts of wood only existed in new lands like America, or half-civilized places. Are there wild animals in the woods here?”
The driver was a French soldier, quite advanced in life. He spoke English well, and seemed to enjoy giving the largest possible information to his seat companions.