Outside many people began to cry all at once and hurried footsteps were heard.
"There is something wrong," answered I.
There was, indeed. On that particular spot the line, for some technical reason, was only single tracked, and railway smashes were therefore not altogether avoidable.
The Comtesse wanted to alight at once, but I held her back.
"What for?" I asked. "Are you not all right here? The worst is over. If there is anything to be seen, it must be most unpleasant."
She settled down again in her seat. Her fright had apparently been great, to judge from her paleness and from the way she looked, wide eyed, at me. Out of the bag which had tumbled down from the net, I took a flask of brandy and a little goblet.
"Drink this," I said, offering her a few drops.
She accepted, and then:
"How phlegmatic you English are!" said she. "Look at these people...."