The next morning, at breakfast, Sir Hilary raised the question as to what means of conveyance they should next take. At that moment, Dick saw the gray-haired man-servant taking out the ladies' luggage to the Paris diligence, which great, unshapely vehicle, drawn by gaunt horses, now stood before the door.
"What conveyance?" echoed Dick. "How can you ask? Why, the diligence, of course!"
And there was more haste than Sir Hilary saw the need of, in finishing the breakfast, paying the bill, and getting Sir Hilary's baggage down-stairs in time to make sure of not being left behind.
Dick and Sir Hilary had been aboard some minutes, before the ladies appeared. Dick leaped out and gave his hand to them, the old lady first, to assist them into the diligence. The old lady bowed, but looked distrustful; the girl said, "Merci, monsieur," in a low but appreciative voice, and turned her eyes on his for a considerable part of a second. Dick took a seat where he could get a view of the girl's face without staring directly at her, and the diligence rumbled off with many a violent jolt.
"They call these machines turgotines," said Sir Hilary, alluding to the diligence, and speaking in French purposely to be heard by the other passengers, "because they were introduced during the ministry of Monseer Turgot, but if I were Monseer Turgot I shouldn't be proud on that account."
A Picardy abbé replying with a polite question as to stage-coaches in England, the conversation soon became general. One of the passengers was an old lieutenant who had served in Canada, and, through some remark of his, the American war became the topic,—a topic at that time held in far greater interest throughout Europe than Dick had imagined it would be. A difference arising among the passengers as to the relative situations of Boston and Philadelphia, Dick undertook to set them right; but his statement was doubted by the majority. Thereupon, the black-eyed girl, who had of course kept silent hitherto, spoke out in a somewhat embarrassed manner, confirming Dick's assertion.
"Thanks, mademoiselle!" said Dick, gratefully. "The word of mademoiselle must be final, ladies and gentlemen,—she is doubtless more recently from school than any of us."
Mademoiselle smiled slightly, and said no more, the old lady's look being directed at her in severe rebuke.
The stop for dinner caused a rearrangement of the passengers as to the places in the diligence. Dick now found himself beside the dark-eyed girl, at whose other hand, in a corner, sat the old lady. At Dick's other side was Sir Hilary. The ladies' man-servant was outside. Having dined heavily, Sir Hilary fell asleep before the coach had gone far. And, to Dick's unexpected pleasure, the old lady, after several preliminary nods, followed the fox-hunter's example. The other passengers became engrossed in the adventures of the lieutenant and the comic stories of the abbé.
"Have you ever been in America, mademoiselle," said Dick, softly, "that you are so well informed about its towns?"