Very few people were making for the train to Luchon; but a large crowd was pressing into the suburban train.
The porter who was piloting M. Etienne Rambert, set the baggage he was carrying down on the footboard of a first-class carriage.
"There is no one for the slow train yet, sir; if you like to get in first you can choose your own compartment."
M. Etienne Rambert acted on the suggestion, but he had hardly set foot in the corridor before the guard, also scenting a generous tip, came to offer his services.
"It really is the 8.50 you want, sir?" was his first enquiry. "You are sure you are not making a mistake?"
"No," Etienne Rambert replied. "Why?"
"A great many first-class passengers do make a mistake," the man explained, "and confuse the 8.50 with the 8.45 express."
As he spoke the guard took the baggage from the porter who had remained on the platform, and the porter, after being generously remunerated for his trouble by M. Rambert, hurried away to look for other travellers.
"The 8.45 is the express, isn't it?" M. Rambert enquired.
"Yes," the guard answered; "it runs right through without stopping at all the small stations as this train does. It goes in front of this one and gets to Luchon three hours earlier. There it is on the side there," and he pointed through the window in the door on the far side to another train on the next rails, in which a number of travellers were already taking their seats. "If you prefer to go by that one, sir," he went on, "there is still time for you to change; you are entitled to take your choice since you have a first-class ticket."