"Back the train!" cried the railroad official in charge.
No, they were not willing to let us go back to Paris. Conspirators against the people might be making their escape. They had set fire to the bridge, they said, to prevent the train from passing over. It must remain where it was. If we passengers desired to return to Paris, we must walk there.
"Walk?" I exclaimed: "it is ten miles! Women—delicate ladies—children!"
My remonstrance was drowned in the confusion. Suddenly the party of women under my charge stood at my elbow: Mrs. Leare was leaning on Hermione's arm; Mammy Christine and Claribel cowered close and held her by her drapery.
"Make no remonstrances," she said in a low voice: "let us not excite attention. An Englishman never knows when not to complain: an American accepts his fate more quietly. These people mean to sack the train. We had better get away as soon as possible."
"But how?" I cried.
"I can walk. We must find some means of transporting mamma, Mammy Chris and Clary."
As Hermione said this she turned to an official and questioned him upon the subject. He thought that there was a little cart and horse which might be hired at a neighboring cottage.
"Let us go and see about it, Mr. Farquhar," said Hermione.
"I will."