PRTCE TWO SHILLINGS.
8;;sr~ n-iT#
. THE CHRONICLE OF
SOME \ Ul VIN W W/tS AMON* • THE.
DESERTED I'OST-l? ADS OE ERANCF
L C K DON:
G F i) s 'I G E It O U T L E D G E & S O B S,
THE: BROADWAY LUDGATE HILL.
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS:
THE
CHRONICLE OF SOME AUTUMN WANDERINGS AMONG THE
DESERTED POST-ROADS OF FRANCE.
BT
CHARLES ALLSTON COLLINS,
AUTHOR OP "THE BYE-WITNESS/' ETC.
THIRD EDITION.
LONDON:
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS,
BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL.
NEW YORE!; 416, BROOME STREET.
1866.
LONDON:
SAVILL AND EDWARDS, PRINTERS, CHANDOS STREET,
COVENT GARDEN.
PREFACE.
The Great Exhibition of 1862 is made the medium of
putting forward for public approval all sorts of inventions
and the results of all sorts of experiments. Artists,
scientific men, engineers, mechanicians, and a vast crowd
of other ingenious persons, send the issue of their studies
to the International Exhibition. Literature stands almost
alone in being unrepresented there.
Now I, too, like these other labourers, have made an
experiment, the result of which it is my desire to exhibit
for public approbation.
It is an experiment to write the history of a journey in
which the interest attaches more to the persons who travel,
than to the places which they travel through.
It is an experiment to treat mountains and rivers, and
woods and towns, as, after all, but the background to a
figure picture.
It is an experiment to give the full weight and value to
all the smaller incidents of each day's pilgrimage, and to
be as confidential with the reader as may consist with that
respect which should always be his due.
It is an experiment to seek to interest the public in a
b
vi
PREFACE.
mode of travelling of which it has probably had no ex-
perience.
It is an experiment to use fictitious characters in a book
of travels, and to describe their adventures in the third
person.
These experiments, fresh from the laboratory, are now
ready for trial, but for such there is no department open
at the Great Exhibition.
It is a greater exhibition than that at Kensington to
which an author sends his handiwork—an exhibition which
has scarcely any limits, and whose area extends to every
land where the English tongue is spoken. To it I would
send this production of mine. It does not profess to be an
invention which shall electrify mankind, or affect the
existing condition or future prospects of Europe. It is an
invention for occupying harmlessly those leisure hours
which the busiest among us are obliged sometimes to allow
themselves, and for taking off the thoughts of those who are
in sorrow or anxiety from the trouble which presses most
heavily in inactive moments.
London, April 3, 1862.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
IN WHICH IT WILL BE SEEN THAT SO SIMPLE A TRANSACTION
AS THE PURCHASE OP A MAP MAY BE ATTENDED WITH
VERY REMARKABLE RESULTS .... pp. 1—16
CHAPTER II.
SHOWING HOW OUR TWO PRIENDS MADE THE ACQUAINTANCE
OP MONSIEUR GARROT, AND HOW THEY BEHAVED WITH
INFINITE CAUTION AND DISCREETNESS . pp. 17—30
CHAPTER III.
THE PLOT THICKENS, AND THE READER IS INTRODUCED TO
BIJOU, THE  PEARL OP MALAISE . . pp. 31—46
CHAPTER IV.
IN THE COURSE OP THIS CHAPTER ALL DIFFICULTIES ARE
OVERCOME BY THE ENERGY AND RESOLUTION OF MR.
FUDGE, AND THE "CRUISE UPON WHEELS BEGINS,
pp. 47-61
viii
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER Y.
TREATING OE THE PLEASANT EVENING DRIVE WHICH BROUGHT
OUR TRAVELLERS TO THE TOWN OE ST. OMER, AND OF ALL
THAT HAPPENED ON THE JOURNEY . . PP- 62—82
CHAPTER YI.
A LONG DAY'S JOURNEY; A DINNER IN GOOD COMPANY; A
SUPPER IN BAD COMPANY ; AND OTHER MATTERS WHICH
SHALL BE LEFT FOR THE READER TO DISCOVER,
m». 83—108
CHAPTER YII.
SHOWING HOW THE TRAVELLERS SET OFF FOR THE HOSTELRY
OF THE QUATRE FILS D'AYMON, AND HOW THEY MADE TEA
ON THE ROAD, TRIUMPHING ALTOGETHER OVER THE OPPO-
SITION OF THE ELEMENTS . . . pp. 109—131
CHAPTER YIII.
A SHORT CHAPTER, IN WHICH THE TRAVELLERS ARE 'FAIRLY
AGROUND, AND IN THE COURSE OF WHICH THIS TRUE
HISTORY HAS A VERY NARROW ESCAPE OF COMING TO AN
UNTIMELY END pp. 132—114
CHAPTER IX.
IN WHICH THE TWO FRIENDS ONCE MORE ENGAGE IN A DES-
PERATE STRUGGLE TO GET OFF AGAIN, WITH WHAT FINAL
RESULT THE READER MUST STUDY THIS CHAPTER IN ORDER
TO ASCERTAIN pp.145 167
CHAPTER, X.
THE CARRIOLE ARRIVES AT PARIS, AND THE PROSPECTS OF THE
TRAVELLERS BEGIN TO BRIGHTEN CONSIDERABLY—A NEW
AND VERY REMARKABLE CHARACTER IS INTRODUCED TO
THE READER pp. 168—180
CONTENTS.
IX
CHAPTER XI.
IN WHICH YET ANOTHER CHARACTER DESTINED TO PLAY AN
IMPORTANT PART IN THESE PAGES COMES UPON THE SCENE ;
AND IN WHICH THERE REALLY SEEMS A CHANCE OF "THE
CRUISE BEING RESUMED AFTER ALL . pp. 187—197
CHAPTER XII.
RATHER A LONG CHAPTER, CONTAINING MUCH IMPORTANT
MATTER, AND SHOWING HOW THE TRAVELLERS MADE A NEW
START, HOW MAZARD WAS KIDNAPPED, HOW THE LITTLE
HORSE BEHAVED, AND HOW MR. PINCHBOLD SAT UP ALL
NIGHT pp. 198—22 7
CHAPTER XIII.
THE JOURNEY CONTINUED ; THE FOREST ; SOME NOTICE OF THE
BEAUTIES OF TONTAINEBLEAU ; A REFRESHING INCIDENT
LEADING TO A SURPRISE .... pp. 228—250
CHAPTER XIY.
THE MATTER CONTAINED IN THIS CHAPTER WILL, IT IS HOPED,
SERVE TO CONVINCE THE READER THAT THE OFFICE OF A
"PLAIN COOK IS ONE SURROUNDED WITH DIFFICULTIES OF
THE MOST OVERWHELMING SORT . . pp. 251—267
CHAPTER XV.
CONVEYS MR. FUDGE AND HIS FRIEND FROM MONTEREAU TO SENS
—IN THE COURSE OF THEIR JOURNEY THEIR EARLY ILLU-
SIONS ON THE SUBJECT OF HAPPY PEASANTS AND BEAUTIFUL
VIVANDIERES ARE FINALLY AND FOR EVER DISPELLED,
pp. 268—278
CHAPTER XVI.
A SHORT CHAPTER, IN WHICH OUR TRAVELLERS MAKE THE
ACQUAINTANCE OF THE HUNGRY MAN OF SENS, AND ALSO
THAT OF A COMMERCIAL RECLUSE, AN INHABITANT OF THE
SAME CITY PP- 279—289
X
CONTENTS,
CHAPTER XVII.
THE READER HEARS HOW MR. FUDGE AND MR. PINCHBOLD WENT
TO THE F:&TE AT SENS; ALSO HOW BOTH GENTLEMEN (BUT
MR. PINCHBOLD ESPECIALLY) ENJOYED THEMSELVES ON THE
occasion pp. 290—309
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE TRAVELLERS GET ON FROM SENS TO VILLENEUVE, AND FROM
VILLENEUVE TO JOIGNY—AN INCIDENT TAKES PLACE WHICH
CALLS FORTH AN EXTRAORDINARY DISPLAY OF CHARACTER ON
THE PART OF MR. PINCHBOLD ... pp. 310—321
CHAPTER XIX.
AN ADVENTUROUS CHAPTER, IN WHICH MR. PINCHBOLD THINKS
HE IS POISONED, AND TOWARDS THE CONCLUSION OF WHICH
OUR TRAVELLERS ARE BENIGHTED IN A STRANGE COUNTRY,
AND LOSE THEIR WAY .... pp. 322—34<1
CHAPTER XX.
TONNERRE, AND REST—SOME ACCOUNT OF THE GOODLY COMPANY
ASSEMBLED AT THE INN AT ANCY LE FRANC, AND OF THEIR
REFRESHING AND INGENIOUS CONVERSATION ; WITH OTHER
MATTERS pp. 312—356
CHAPTER XXI.
DEVOTED TO A CERTAIN EPISODE IN THE LIFE OF MR. FRANCIS
PINCHBOLD—IN FACT, IN THIS CHAPTER THE READER WILL
HEAR HOW THAT GENTLEMAN FELL IN LOVE IN A VERY
RIDICULOUS MANNER, AND HOW HE WAS RUDELY AWAKENED
FROM A VERY FOOLISH DREAM . . pp. 357—375
CHAPTER XXII.
SOMETHING ABOUT THE COUNTRY BETWEEN MONTBARD AND
DIJON ; THE MOST DESERTED OF DESERTED ROADS—SOME-
THING ALSO IN ILLUSTRATION OF THE FOLLY OF IMPA-
TIENCE, A FEELING TO WHICH THE READER, IT IS HOPED,
NEVER GIVES WAY pp. 376—391
CONTENTS.
xi
CHAPTER XXIII.
DIJON, THE HEART OF THE COTE D'OR—TWO DAYS OF REST,
AND THE LAST GREAT DIVISION OF THE JOURNEY ENTERED
UPON—THE TRAVELLERS ARRIVE AT AUXONNE, AND GET
INTO VERY REMARKABLE QUARTERS INDEED, pp. 392—408
CHAPTER XXIV.
the mountains ; the great rampart of the swiss coun-
try ; the barrier between our travellers and their
journey's end ; the jura chain—how shall it be
crossed P pp. 409—422
CHAPTER XXV.
the ascent begins, and the two friends gradually make
their way into the very heart of the jura moun-
tains—on the fourth day, at about noon, they come
in sight of the alps ! . . . . pp. 423—441
CHAPTER XXVI.
the last—the descent from the heights; . its length
and steepness—above the clouds—arrival in the
plain after six miles of descent—the feat accom-
plished—and the end .... pp. 442—451
conclusion pp. 452—456
appendix . PP- 457—460
A CEUISE UPON WHEELS,
CHAPTER I.
in which it will be seen that so simple A transaction as
the purchase of A map mat be attended with vert re-
markable results.
On the fifteenth day of the month of August, in the year
one thousand eight hundred and sixty, and at about half-
past nine of the forenoon, there appeared in the main street
of Malaise a certain gentleman of England, residing tempo-
rarily at No. 56, Rue Loyale, in the town just mentioned,
which is situated in the French dominions.
Now this gentleman, who, as has been said, was of
English birth and descent, and bore the name of David
Fudge, was a personage of simple tastes and of a retiring
disposition. He was one who found more pleasure in
studying men than in associating with them, one who liked
better to be among the woods and fields than in great towns,
one who prized but little the stakes which most men play
their all to win; in a word, he was dreadfully unpractical,
and would be capable of taking up his residence for a
month in some little French town with a strongly-flavoured
moat surrounding it, if haply the place had some touch of
antiquarian interest connected with it, or if it appealed to that
turn for the romantic with which he was profoundly imbued.
It was some such feeling as this that had caused our
gentleman and his friend and companion, Mr. Pinchbold,
B
A CTIUISE UPON WHEELS.
to stop short at the very threshold of a contemplated tour
oil the continent, and to take up their abode for six Aveeks
at Malaise;
Has it ever happened to the reader to take a place, a
person, an invention—an institution, in short, of any kind—
under his protection, to stick: to it for weeks, to be incom-
moded by it, to be rendered wretched by it, to be leading
a miserable life in consequence of it, and yet to cling to it
still ? Nay, has it happened to him even to be Avholly un-
conscious that his despair was attributable to the place,
person, thing, invention, or other institution in question,
till some slight circumstance has at length exposed to him
the real cause of his unhappiness, and laid it bare before
him Avith dazzling clearness?
Once again, has the reader ever, arriving at some place
he has never visited before, taken a sudden fancy to it,
committed himself to apartments for a month certain, gone
on praising the locality and all that belongs to it, defend-
ing it against attack, ferreting out concealed attractions,
attaching undue importance to them, undervaluing obATious
defects just as much as he overvalues hardly discernible
merits; has he gone on in this way for three Aveeks out of
his month, and then suddenly broken down, found out his
mistake, and pined in secret for deliverance ?
Woe to him, who, arriving in the dead of night at the
toAvn of Malaise—it is easily found by him who will take
boat at Dover and steer nearly due south for some two-and-
tAventy miles—woe to him who, hearing the carillon of
bells chime forth the hour of midnight as he crosses the
Place d'Armes, takes it suddenly into his head that Malaise is
a delightful old place, and that a man might do worse than
take up his abode there for some time.
It is not so. A man may not do worse. The man who
has chanced upon Malaise at midnight, and come to the
conclusion just recorded, Avill find (the day after he has
committed himself irrevocably to a suite of apartments) that
he could not have done worse, if he had tried.
MALAISE.'
3
If you happen to hit upon the exact time—apparently
about one hour in six weeks—when the tide is up, if you
happen to take the one tolerable walk along the ramparts,
if you happen to arrive just when the fair is being held in
che Place d'Armes, and if the weather happens to be for that
day satisfactory, then it may chance that you will be (like
Messrs. Fudge and Pinchbold) the victim of this evil town,
and will fall into its malignant clutches helplessly. Then
when you walk forth with the key of your apartments in
your pocket, will Malaise wear a wholly different aspect,
and will—it is a characteristic of French bargains—lose no
time in letting you know what a mistake you have made.
When a town has a port which emits incessant odours, a
•city-ditch surrounding it on all sides with a flavour several
degrees stronger than even that of the port, when every
gutter in every street is a smaller edition—in a concen-
trated form—of the city-ditch, when a neighbourhood is
without walks, when the sea is hopelessly shut out from
access by miles of intricate harbour, then may the city of
•which these are the characteristics be pronounced detest-
able, and its freedom—if that phrase implies that you are
free to escape from it—be coveted by all right-minded
persons.
Now both Mr. Fudge and Mr. Pinchbold were the victims
of a fancy which they had taken to Malaise on first arriving
at it, and were, though curiously enough they had not
acknowledged it to each other, or, perhaps, even to them-
selves, both suffering from a three weeks' residence in a town
the characteristics of which have been detailed above. For
the rest, the two were well-matched companions, and had
nothing to complain of in each other. It was not the first
time that they had been thus thrown together. Friends of
long standing, partners years before of that great event in a
man's life, the first continental experience, they were bound
together further by a similarity of tastes, and, perhaps, more
than all by a certain dissimilarity of character. When two
men ride on a horse one must ride behind, and it is a ques-
b 2
4
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
tion whether a great degree of intimacy and harmony can
exist between two persons unless one does to a certain
extent acknowledge the other as his superior. Be this as
it may, there is no doubt that in the case we are consider-
ing the conduct of affairs was mainly in the hands of the
elder of these two gentlemen, Mr. David Fudge, and that
the other looked up to him, believed in him, and was ever
ready to be guided by him.
There never was such a strange complication of elements
as were brought together to form the character of Francis
Pinchbold. If he had not, during the first ten years of his
life, been systematically spoilt by a sensitive mother, and
frightened out of his wits by a boisterous father, who
laughed at him and bullied him by turns, he would have
grown up a more useful member of society than he was ;
been more uniformly happy, perhaps, himself; but he
would also have been less keenly alive to many sources of
pleasure, and would certainly never have been thought
queer and remarkable enough as a character to find a place
in these pages. He was, to use an old quotation, every-
thing by turns—rash and timid; irritable and long-suffer-
ing; irresolute and determined; and in a thousand other
ways inconsistent; while (to go on with the hackneyed
quotation) he was nothing long; unless it was that he was
conscientious, faithful, and true always. But perhaps the
most salient point of all in the character of him whom we
are thus examining was the strange combination of excessive
nervousness and sensitiveness to danger, with a singular
aptitude for getting into situations of risk and peril. He
was always in a state of woe and alarm about something or
other, and was no sooner relieved from this source of
apprehension than he found out another and plunged into
it headlong. Croker was not so great an alarmist as our
friend, nor so swift to find out that everything was going
wrong. Yet it was difficult to say whether Pinchbold was
altogether a slave to timidity, or whether there were some
latent elements of courage lurking within him. A delicate
FRANCIS PINCHBOLD.
5
frame, however, an excessive nervousness, a keen sense of
clanger, a morbid incapability of bearing pain, these things
it is as certain that he possessed, as that he had a heart that
was worth a Jew's ransom, and a constitution that was not
worth twopence.
Now, most people would expect that, because it has been
said above that there was a certain dissimilarity between
the character of Pinchbold and his friend, that therefore the
nature of David Fudge was of the sternest order. But it
was not so. It has been mentioned at the commencement
of this chapter that he was a man of somewhat unpractical
tendency, and truly alive to the pleasures of the romantic.
He was only more consistent, more uniformly courageous,
more firm of nerve, than his friend, and he was, at the same
time, more cautious, and though less disturbed when in a
difficulty than Pinchbold, was also more prudent about
getting into one, and less likely to become involved in
scrapes than the other. But enough has been said now of
the characters of both the one and the other, and we may
leave them to develop themselves in the course of this
narrative. It is only necessary further to say that Mr.
Pinchbold, to complete his inconsistencies, had been
brought up to the law without having an atom of vocation
for that profession, and that he had a small independence
which left him at liberty to neglect it as much as he liked.
Mr. David Fudge was a professional author, but one who,
working chiefly in anonymous publications, had as yet done
nothing to attract public attention to his somewhat
remarkable name. Having mentioned that of these two
gentlemen Mr. Fudge was the elder by four years, and was
himself three-and-thirty, we need at present say no more
about them and may proceed at once to business.
It happened, then, on the morning—the date of which
has been set down at the beginning of this chapter—that
Mr. David Fudge, when he went out (it being his turn) t<v
purchase the rolls for breakfast, saw in the window of the
6
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
chief bookseller's and stationer's shop of Malaise, what
appeared to be a small volume in paper covers of a yellow
hue. It turned out, however, on inspection, to be a folded
map, with this inscription outside it:—
NOUVELLE CARTE
D E FRANCE,
PAR DlsPARTEMENTS
INDIQUANT
LES CHEMINS DE EER, LES ROUTES DES POSTES,
AVEC LES DISTANCES EN KILOMETRES,
LES NOUVELLES DIVISIONS MILITAIRES, LES ARCHEV^CHfS
ET iv^CHlsS, &C. &C.
PAR DUSSEE BERTHE,
GEOGRAPHE.
An economist of no mean order by nature, and also by
circumstances rendered almost parsimonious in his habits,,
it was a long time before Mr. Fudge could justify in his
mind the purchase of this map, which his soul coveted.
He would perhaps never have bought it at all if it had not
happened that, just as he had turned away from the window,
and was passing the door of the shop, the proprietor, Mon-
sieur Carton, coming out to sniff the morning air, actually
jostled against him, and then with profuse apology stepped
out into the street, as if to make way for Mr. Fudge's entry
into the shop. In short he seemed to take it for granted
that our economist was going to make a purchase.
 Here are four rolls, half-a-pound of butter, a pound of
bacon, and two eggs, said Mr. Fudge, on his return home,
and laying each of the articles named on the breakfast-table
as he spoke.  Is Agnes the abhorrent on the premises ?
This Agnes was a servant whom the two bachelors had
hired to attend to their household wants. She was called
a  femme de menage, came every morning and went away
in the evening, taking her meals also, as well as her repose,
AGN'ES THE ABHOEEENT.
7
at her own home. A certain fluey appearance about her
hair, a superhuman ugliness, a habit of asking for sous to
make purchases of inscrutable wares, which she alleged were
necessary for the menage, a tendency to put down her
employers on every occasion by disparaging everything
which they bought—all these things combined, caused her
powers of aggravation to be of a high order, and made her,
especially in the eyes of Mr. Fudge, an object of detestation
and alarm.
 She is not only on the premises, said Mr. Pinchbold,
in a low tone,  but in the room. And indeed, on looking
sharply round, Mr. Fudge found this aggravating personage
immediately behind him, and engaged in performing one of
her choicest feats of aggravation.
It was the practice of Agnes the abhorrent, whenever
either of her employers made a purchase, to take it up, and,
being excessively near-sighted, to hold it close to one of
her eyes in order to examine it. Having protracted this
scrutiny to the utmost limits of time that could be given to
the purpose, she would either utter some remark calculated
to deteriorate the market value of the commodity very con-
siderably, or else would bear it off to the kitchen with a
smile whieh intimated a knowledge of some hidden defect
in the article which was too dreadful to be mentioned.
Sometimes, too, she would conclude her examination with a
deep sigh, which was a thing of even more dire and sinister
augury than the smile. It was with such a profoundly-
drawn inspiration that this fearful woman now terminated
her inspection (at an inch and a half from her nose) of Mr.
Fudge's bacon, after which she withdrew with it to the
kitchen.
"When do you hate Agnes most? Mr. Fudge inquired
of his friend, as they sat down to breakfast.
 When she looks close at the things we buy, answered
Mr. Pinchbold, without a moment's hesitation.
 I hate her most, said Mr. Fudge, who, as has been
already hinted, was of a somewhat parsimonious habit— I
8
A CRUISE UPON 'WHEELS.
hate her most when she asks for three sous to buy soft
soap.
 You are a screw, Fudge, remarked Mr. Pinchbold.
 I am an economist, Pinchbold, was the answer ;  a
screw, added Mr. F., as he pulled the map which he had just
bought out of his pocket,  would not have made this
xiseless purchase. I bought it this morning at Monsieur
Carton's.
11I delight in a map, said Mr. Pinchbold, eagerly open-
ing the one in question, and spreading it out upon the floor.
 I like to pick out all sorts of strange lonely-looking places,
and imagine what they are like. Look here, he continued,
sprawling over the map, and pointing at a spot on it with
his pencil,  Ancy le Franc  fancy the dulness of Ancy
le Franc. Tonnerre, again—the French for thunder—what
an awful place that must be. Oh, Fudge, he cried, pre-
sently, turning suddenly round,  let us go somewhere.
Why, in the name of goodness, don't we travel ?
 I have, said Mr. Fudge,  such a detestation of the
act of travelling. I hate a railway-station with an inde-
scribable hatred. Travelling has lost to me almost all its
attractiveness since railways were thought of, and I can
hardly understand any one wanting to take a journey unless
it is on business. It is not travelling at all, it is getting
into a chamber of fidgets at one station, and getting out of
it at another. The very aspect of a station takes away all
the interest of a place I arrive at. Then think of the
luggage, the struggles at junctions, the changes of carriages
just when you have got all those inevitable things which
you always carry in your hand stowed away. Think of
our getting into a carriage where we are not wanted, where
we should find only two places left, where we should stumble
in over objecting legs, and have to sit for six hours with a
pile of coats, a hat-box, a carpet-bag, a paper of provisions,
and a bundle of sticks in our laps. Think, said the eco-
nomist,  of the incessant fees—the fiacres at stations, the
PLANNING THE CKUISE.
9
catching and missing of trains. No, PinchboM, I cannot
stand it—I really cannot stand it.
Mr. Pinchbold seemed daunted for a moment by his
companion's description of the miseries of a journey by train,
and was silent for some moments. Presently, however, he
returned to the charge.
 But is there no other way, he said,  in which we
eould travel ? Why couldn't we go, like the people in Mr.
James's romances, on horseback ?
 Because the expense of buying and keeping a couple of
horses would be something tremendous; because we should
never find two that would do; because there would be no-
where to put the luggage.
 Saddle-bags, murmured Mr. Pinchbold, faintly.
 Never do, said Mr. Fudge.  Never do at all.
 Well, then, I'll tell you what would do, cried the
other.  Suppose Ave Avere to get a cabriolet and a horse,
and drive—say tAventy miles each day. Fancy hoAv de-
lightful that Avould be, with nobody to control us; starting
Avhen we liked, resting Avhen Ave liked; staying Avhere Ave
liked, and as long as we liked ; Ave should be free, perfectly
free.
 I question whether anybody is perfectly free, Mr.
Fudge put in; "but I must own that the notion of the
•cabriolet-journeying comes very near to my idea of liberty.
It Avould be tremendously expensive, though.
 Not a bit of it, argued Mr. Pinchbold,  supposing the
first outlay once over 
 Which is supposing a good deal, interrupted Mr.
Fudge.
11 The first outlay over, continued Mr. Pinchbold,  the
rest would cost nothing; less than living here or anyAvhere
else. Those country inns are so cheap. Oh, it Avould be
very delightful. Fancy the strange melancholy places Ave
should arrive at, the Avild scenery Ave should pass through.
Here is the map of France before us, Mr. P. Avent on,
10
A CRUISE Ui'ON WHEELS.
pointing to it as it lay on the floor;  let us choose our
route, buy out horse 
 Buy our horse, said Mr. Fudge, musingly, in paren-
thesis.
 Get our cabriolet, continued the eloquent Pinchbold,
"and start.
Such was the proposal of Mr. Pinchbold.
The conversation which succeeded it was a long one, and
was in its turn followed by many more. It was one of the
qualities of Mr. Pinchbold, and was a part of that mixture
of rashness and timidity by which he was characterized,
that he had no sooner proposed any scheme, or started any
project, than he suddenly perceived all its dangers or dis-
advantages, and proceeded to dwell on these as freely as he
had done before on the pleasures connected with his plan.
Mr. Fudge, who knew the weakness of his friend well, was
therefore in nowise astonished, when in the course of the
day succeeding the morning which we have described, Mr.
Pinchbold began to hazard a few remarks apparently in
disparagement of the journey, of which he had spoken in
such rapturous terms.
It so happened that on the afternoon of the day whose
morning Ave have been all this time occupied xvith, our tAvo
friends, in the course of their Avalk, Avere just passing
through the gates of Malaise at the moment Avhen a struggle
of a someAvhat alarming kind betAveen a horse and his driver
was going on in front of the portcullis. The animal in
question Avas a young and fiery beast, Avhich had apparently
been more accustomed to the sound of its footsteps on the
hard road than on the resounding wood of a drawbridge,
and every time its hoofs descended with a hollow thump, it.
plunged and reared in a manner that threatened to upset
the heavy cart in which it was placed. At last, responding
to a tremendous application of the driver's whip, the animal
rushed furiously forward and disappeared with its load
behind it in the tunnel-like entrance of the fortifications.
WITH REGARD TO HORSES?
11
 A nasty hot brute, observed Mr. Fudge to his friend,,
as they walked on after observing this little incident.
Mr. Pinchbold was silent for a time, and when he spoke
it was with a certain hesitation in his manner that argued
a condition of mind the reverse of confident.
 With regard to horses? asked Mr. P.
 Well, what with regard to them ?
 Why, with regard to our notion of the journey in the
cabriolet. I'm afraid we should have a great difficulty in
finding a horse that would be suited to our purpose.
 There is no doubt we should, replied his friend.
 The horse, said Mr. Pinchbold, making a general
remark,  is an awful animal.
 Not always, replied Mr. Fudge, laughing.
"1 don't know, rejoined the other,  when you come to
think of it. The strength, the capabilities of doing mischief..
Why he can bite, kick, rear, fall back upon you 
 Not the last, in a carriage, interposed Mr. Fudge.
 I don't know that, continued Pinchbold.  I don't
know that, Fudge. At all events he can fling himself'
from side to side. Then he can run away. He can bolt
down a hill with a bridge at the bottom of it, and dash the
carriage to pieces against the paparet. Oh! Fudge,
repeated Mr. Pinchbold,  oh ! Fudge, Fudge, a horse is
an awful animal.
"Well, said the gentleman thus appealed to,  do you
wish the idea to be given up ? Only, if you do, say so,
my dear fellow, at once, for if I once make a move in a
project which I like the notion of as much as I do this, I
know I shall never be able to abandon it.
 Oh, don't let's abandon it, said Mr. Pinchbold;  but
there are some tremendous things connected with it, are
there not ? We should have fearful things to encounter—
let me see, continued Mr. Pinchbold, as the two friends
seated themselves on some timber by the roadside (they
had now got well out of the town).  Let me see ; first of
12
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
all, there would be the dangers with the horse—a biting
horse, a kicking horse, a rearing horse, a jibbing horse, a
shying horse, a bolting horse, a tumbling-down horse, a
horse that was devilish in the stable, a horse that was
difficult to harness, a horse—a horse 
u That will do for the horse, remarked Mr. Fudge;
get on to the other dangers.
 There would be dangers connected with losing our
way, getting benighted, having to put up at some obscure
auberge, where persons who looked as well off as we do,
had never been seen before. What awful places, continued
Mr. P., warming to his subject,  we might have to put up
at! Why, the roads now must be more deserted and
lonely than they ever were before. 1 never thought of
that. The railroads must have taken all the traffic off
them ; and as to the inns, nobody can ever stop at them at
all. Think of the cut-throat places we should arrive at,
with ill-looking men playing at billiards, and staring wildly
at us. Think of the disused hotels, with landlords—des-
perate characters—who, finding themselves on the brink of
ruin, would seize any opportunity of enriching themselves
that came in their way. Think of the other dangers con-
nected with those inns; why, said Mr. Pinchbold in a
mysterious tone, u to take another aspect of the thing
altogether, think of the dangers from copper saucepans.
 Copper saucepans ? repeated Mr. Fudge.
 Copper saucepans, continued Mr. P.,  long disused,
and which would have contracted verdigris; these might
be used in cooking our food, and 
 Nay, interrupted Mr. Fudge,  you are going too far
now; never mind the saucepan dangers. What else is there ?
 Footpads, said Mr. Pinchbold.  Those deserted
roads are more apt for banditti than they ever were before.
Imagine the ruffians in blue blouses, who hearing of us at
the house where we passed the night, would get a start of
us in the morning, and waylay us on the road. Have you
thought of all these things, Fudge ?
MISGIVINGS.
13
 I have thought of some of them, replied that gentle-
man;  but I think you exaggerate a little the alarming
qualities of the men in the blue blouses.
 They are a truculent-looking race, urged Pinclibold.
"Well, as I said before, continued Mr. Fudge,  if you
want the project abandoned, you have only to speak ; now
is the time.
 Oh, don't let's abandon the project, said Pinchbold,
once more ;  only it's very tremendous.
And so alternately entreating that the journey might
take place, and enlarging on all the horrors connected with
it, did Francis Pinchbold continue to perplex himself
during the remainder of the walk. The two friends rambled
on for some distance, and then arriving at a little village,
which was a kind of suburb of Malaise, they determined to
take the omnibus which ran every half hour to and from
the town.
 Now, said Mr. Fudge, as they approached this vehicle,
 the guard of this omnibus is a kind of man who would be
likely to know where one could meet with a horse. If I
ask him about the subject as we ride back, the first step
will be taken, and we must go through with it.
 Oh, good heavens, Fudge! said Mr. Pinchbold,
turning very pale;  don't throw the responsibility of it
upon me. What a fearful state of things this is !
 Very well, then, we'll give it up, said Mr. Fudge,
desperately.
 Oh, no, don't let's give it up, cried Pinchbold.
 Then we must go through with it, returned the
other.
 Do as you like, replied Mr. Pinchbold, as they seated
themselves in the carriage; "but a horse is a fearful
animal, isn't it?
 Sometimes, replied Mr. Fudge.
 And the French lower orders are a truculent-looking-
race, are they not ? said the unhappy Pinchbold.
 Sometimes, repeated Mr. Fudge, as the vehicle started.
u
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
Mr. Fudge sat silent and absorbed in thought for some
time, as if engaged in making up his mind upon the subject
which his friend had left him to decide upon. It was not
till the omnibus was on the drawbridge of the town that he
turned to the conductor, who was standing close beside
him, and put the momentous question—
 Do you happen to know of any one who has a good
horse for sale ?
Mr. Pinchbold started in his seat opposite as if he had
been shot, and looked anxiously at the conductor, apparently
hoping that this official would answer the question in the
negative. This, however, was not to be the ease.
 There is Monsieur Garrot, said the man ;  he has
always a large selection of horses in his stables. He is the
principal dealer in Malaise.
 And where does he live ? inquired Mr. Fudge.
 Just outside the gates; there, continued the man,
 you can see his house if you look as I point.
 We will go there to-morrow, said Mr. Fudge to his
friend, as they descended from the omnibus.
And now that the project of the journey was once fairly
entertained, everything seemed, in the eyes of Mr. Fudge
especially, to favour it, and to render it more attractive.
Now, too, the two friends began to compare notes on the
subject of the place of their residence, and to own frankly
that Malaise was fast becoming the death of them. The
journey promised them a speedy deliverance from Malaise,
and, what was still more delightful, from Agnes. They
found, on their return from the walk which had just been
described, this faithful retainer prepared with a perfectly
new means of annoyance. Mr. Fudge had purchased a
chicken at the market for dinner; had sent it home, and
thought no more about it. On the return of the two friends
from their afternoon walk, they naturally expected to find
the dinner in an active state of preparation. But Agnes
had a surprise in store for them.
Mr. Fudge had just thrown himself, exhausted, on one
THE MOTHElt OF A FAMILY.
15
•chair, and Mr. Pinchbold on another, in a condition of
before-dinner abjection, when Agnes appeared at the door
of the apartment holding the bird, which Mr. Fudge had
purchased, in an uncooked state, in her hand. With the
head back, and a smile upon her face, the tormentor
.addressed Mr. Fudge in the third person:—
 Did the gentleman buy this for a chicken ?
 Certainly, replied Mr. Fudge, hastily;  how is it
that it is not cooked ?
 If the gentleman bought this for a chicken, replied
the tormentor, poking the deceased bird in the chest with
her thumb, and holding it close to her nose,  he has been
■deceived.
 Why, what is it? inquired Mr. Pinchbold, somewhat
alarmed.
 If I had roasted this, continued Agnes, without notic-
ing Mr. Pinchbold's question,  it would have been as
hard as a board.
"In the name of goodness, what is the animal then?
asked Mr. Pinchbold again.
 It is a hen, gentlemen—an old hen, the mother of a
family.
 What is to be done with it, then ? asked Mr. Fudge.
 If I had put it on in the morning to boil, said Agnes,
musingly, and as if talking to herself,  and it had stewed
all day, it might have been eatable.
 Then why didn't you do so ? urged Mr. Fudge,
irritably.
 The gentleman sent the hen home with orders that it
was to be roasted, remarked the femme de menage, with
fraudulent meekness;  that being so, it was not for me to
alter the mode of cooking without orders.
"You have no reason to think, inquired Mr. Pinchbold,
hesitatingly, "that the bird in your hand has died a
natural death?
 It might have died of age, answered the abhorrent.
 Nothing shall induce me to partake of that fearful
16
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
fowl, said Mr. Pinchbold, as Agnes left the room, with
directions to boil the  mother of a family till she became
eatable, and to serve her for the morrow's dinner; while
the unhappy friends sat down to that refuge of the disap-
pointed—a dish of chops.
 To escape from that woman, remarked Mr. Fudge, as
they commenced their meal,  will be a consummation of
bliss which alone makes the journey a thing to look forward
to with all the eagerness in the world.
 To get away from Malaise, said Mr. Pinchbold, in his
turn, spreading his napkin on his knees,  will be a height
of rapture, the idea of which almost reconciles me to the
hideous dangers we are going to encounter.
And so these two gentlemen owned the truth at last to
each other, and over their frugal meal discussed the abomi-
nations of Malaise.
17
CHAPTER II.
showing how our two friends made the acquaintance of
monsieur garrot, and how they behaved with infinite
caution and discreetness.
The next morning found our two friends, as soon as break-
fast was swallowed, hastening in the direction of Monsieur
Garrot's premises, as they had been pointed out the day
before by the omnibus guard. Of course the morning had
not advanced so far without many expressions of misgiving
on the part of Mr. Pinchbold, called forth by the thought
of the hazardous enterprise they were engaging in.
 I have passed a sleepless night, Fudge, said the un-
happy gentleman.  My mind has been a prey to all sorts
of horrors—runaway horses, storms, blue-bloused ruffians,
copper saucepans, and I know not how many other dreadful
things have been floating before my imagination.
Mr. Fudge was relentless.  You have started the idea,
Pinch, he said;  your genius has given birth to a mighty
project, and now it is too late to abandon it.
 Oh, I don't want to abandon it exactly, interrupted
Mr. P.
 For my part, continued Mr. Fudge,  nothing would
induce me to give it up. If you wont share the thing, I'll
go—by Jove, sir, I'll go by myself. I never was so taken
by anything in my life. It seems a sort of realization of
all I used to long for as a boy. Why, I recollect when
travelling as a child almost, with my father, in Italy, I used
always to envy the position of the Vetturino, who had all
the power, and, as I thought, all the fun of the journey in
C
18
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
his own hands. Now, we shall be at no one's mercy : we
choose our route, our hour of starting; we may do any-
thing we like with carriage or horse ; we drive ourselves.
 Nothing shall induce me to touch a rein, Mr. Pinch-
bold broke in.
 But I am a driver, par excellence, the other went on,
"from the time when, as I child, I used to harness my
playfellows, or in their default a team of chairs, I have
always liked driving; and, at different times, I have had
some considerable experience in that line.
 I rejoice to hear it, remarked Mr. Pinchbold, faintly.
 I will see to that part of the business, Mr. F. went
on.  All the care and the responsibility of horse, harness,
and vehicle, shall rest on my shoulders.
 It shall, said Mr. Pinchbold, fervently;  indeed it
shall.
 I don't profess, mind, said Mr. Fudge, who was truth
itself,  I don't profess to be what is called a 1 horsey' man,
or to have had as much experience in horses as I could
wish for the success of our undertaking; but I think I
have a tolerable general knowledge of the points of a horse,
and I have, at different times, when in the country, driven,
over, I dare say, a good many miles of ground. However,
of course I shall be very careful as to the animal we select.
We will buy no horse that we have not tried, and none
that has not been first examined by a veterinary surgeon.
But there is no time to talk any more about it, said Mr.
Fudge, interrupting himself,  for here we are at Monsieur
Garrot's door; and there, I suppose, is Monsieur Garrot
himself, standing in the middle of the yard.
Picking their steps among heaps of manure and pools of
wet, our two friends approached the person who seemed
the presiding genius of the place ; and Mr. Fudge, under-
taking the office of spokesman, and mentioning that he and
his friend were in search of a good horse, asked if Monsieur
Garrot could undertake to supply their need.
Monsieur Garrot was one of that order of philosophers
MONSIEUR GARROT.
19
•who hold that if speech is silver, silence is gold. His
appearance suggested a combination of the banker, the
Scotch minister, and the groom, very curious and interest-
ing to study. He had a straw in his mouth, of course,
which was of incalculable service, as it rendered it impos-
sible for him to speak till time enough had elapsed for this
impediment to his utterance to be removed. Monsieur
Garrot was superintending the removal of a manure-heap
when Mr. Fudge addressed him. Having heard what that
gentleman had to say, and having gazed at him steadily
for some minutes in silence, he now motioned to the man
who was engaged; in the savoury occupation just mentioned
to follow him, and led the way towards a long range of
buildings, which formed one side of the yard in which they
were standing. There was a row of doors that gave access
to these out-buildings, and one of these Monsieur Garrot
now opened, making way, though still in silence, for Messrs.
Fudge and Pinchbold to enter.
The scene disclosed to view was one with which all
persons who have ever ventured on a horse transaction are
acquainted. There are few things more bewildering to
the judgment, few that inform less, and perplex more, than
that row of whisking tails which first meets the eye of him
who enters a horsedealer's stable. As Mr. Fudge stood,
with the taciturn dealer by his side, gazing at the back
view of a dozen horses, he felt, it must be owned, extremely
helpless, and at a loss as to what was to be his next move.
It was no use, however, to stand where he was, and the
object which our friends had in view would be still less
served4 by his going away : so Mr. Fudge proceeded next
to walk down the stable, and pass the row of uninforming
tails in review before him. As he did this, accompanied
closely by Monsieur Garrot—Mr. Pinchbold was attended
by the groom—some of the horses would turn their heads
round and stare at him with every variety of expression in
their eyes. In one respect, however, their expressions
seemed to Mr. Fudge to agree; they all seemed to say,
c 2
£0
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
though for somewhat different reasons,  Young man,
beware of me!
No. 1 would give this caution with a rapid glance, which
showed a great amount of the white of the eye—a haggard,
angular-looking eye:  I am a wild, unmanageable, ill-
broken brute, with a temper spoilt by ill-treatment—
beware of me, young man, beware of me.
No. 2 would administer the same caution, but from a
different motive, with a small and nearly-closed eye, ever
jn movement, and an ear to match. He said, as plainly as
these organs could speak : 111 am a nervous "wretch; I shy
at everything the least suspicious, and sometimes bolt,
though not from vice, but fear.
No. 3 would bite at her stall, and dropping her ears flat
on her neck, with a suspicious little stamp of the hind leg,
said very plainly : "I am, young sir, a confirmed kicker;
beware of me, at any cost beware of me.
Whilst No, 4, looking round with a protracted and mild
scrutiny, spoke in good set terms to this effect:  My
temper is calm, and I am not vicious; but know, thou
noble youth, that I have tumbled, and shall tumble on, to
the end of my life; so, whatever you do, beware of me,
and turn your attention elsewhere.
And thus, as they proceed along the whole row of
horses, does every one seem to Mr. Fudge to look more
dangerous or more incompetent than the last. He feels,
however, that it will not do to give way to these mis-
givings ; so at last he stops before an animal which looks
a little more promising than the rest—a white horse, of a
sober aspect—and inquires the price.  The price is seven
hundred francs, Monsieur Garrot remarks, and upon Mr.
Fudge requesting that he may be allowed to see the quad-
ruped outside, its cloth is removed, a bridle is adjusted, a
good deal of combing and brushing goes on about the mane
and legs, and the animal is brought out, and placed by the
groom with all its legs very far apart, so as to present the
most imposing aspect of which it is capable.
FRIENDLY WARNINGS,
21
But after all, as Mr. Fudge feels, and as Mr. Pinchbold
feels still more,—after all, what an inscrutable mystery is-
enclosed within the white skin of this horse of Monsieur
Garrot's, and, if it comes to that, of every other horse that is?
offered for sale. There the beast stands conspicuous before
you, and it is true that if it were disfigured by a pair of
broken knees, a swollen joint, or a wall-eye, you would
find it out. But what is this? How many secret and
veiled maladies and imperfections may be hid under that
seemingly tolerable exterior? To take the eye alone—=•
what cataracts, what ophthalmias, what periodical fluxions,
may rest there, ready to develop on purchase; or in the
legs, what patched-up crippledom that no scrutiny but a
professional one—and that not always—could find out ?
Consider, too, the lungs, and all the loose screws that may
lurk concealed in connexion with the organs of respiration.
Consider the occult spavins, the stifled coughs, and all the
other temporarily repressed diseases which may exist in
that animal which you are contemplating, not to speak of
the unknown vices, the monstrous crimes of temper, that
may be hidden under a fair exterior, and may appear only
when you are in the saddle or on the coach-box, the pro-
prietor of this mass of disease, deception, and danger, your
gold having passed irrevocably into the dealer's hands.
Nor is any trial—short of a month's use—of much service
in enabling you to form your judgment. As long as the
horse is in the hands of the dealer and his servants, you
will hardly be able to find out anything about him. This
truth let the horse-buyer  within his mind rehearse, that
those people who are accustomed to a horse can do any-
thing they like with him. There is absolutely no limit to
their power over the animals under their care. Their
control is so complete, that the horse is almost made an
accomplice of their tricks and deception.
All these things passed through the mind of Mr. Fudge
as he gazed upon the animal before him, as he watched it
being trotted up and down by the groom, as he approached
22
A CEUISE UPON WHEELS.
it, and looked carefully all over it when this exercise was
over. Whilst he was engaged in this occupation, Mr.
Pinchbold came creeping up behind him and whispered in
his ear,
 I don't like that horse, Fudge, he said ;  I feel con-
vinced he is a biter.
 What nonsense, Pinchbold; how can you possibly
know ?
 I have been secretly examining his stall, replied Mr.
Pinchbold,  and the wood-work of it is gnawed in a
manner horrible to behold.
 He looks quiet enough to me, remarked Mr. Fudge,
as the horse was again trotted up and down; and then,
turning to Monsieur Garrot, he inquired what kind of work
the animal had been accustomed to.
 To every kind of work, M. Garrot answered, after
slowly taking the straw out of his mouth.
 Before going any further, said Mr. Fudge, who was
rather posed by this comprehensive answer,  I should like
to see one or two more of your horses.
"Certainly, said M. Garrot; "bring out the black,
Gustave.
The white horse was taken in, and after a long interval,
Gustave reappeared conducting an animal so remarkable in
its appearance as to be deserving of a special description.
It was about seventeen and a half hands high, coal-black,
sloping from the top of the head to the crest, and from the
crest to the tail in a sliding scale like a giraffe; it stood
with its head in the air so high that it seemed wonderful
how the groom could have put the bridle on without
ascending a ladder; it had a fearful, rolling eye, tapering
legs with small hoofs. In short, it looked like a Demon-
horse in a German romance, like a destroying horse seen
in dreams, like the incorporation of strength, ferocity, and
terror. Mr. Pinchbold fled into a distant doorway at sight
of it, and even Mr. Fudge stood aside as the monster
passed.
THE DEMON-HORSE.
28
 It is rather large, he remarked to M. Garrot.
 It is just the horse for a journey, replied that gen-
tleman, to whom Mr. Fudge had mentioned the object he
had in view.  He is so strong that no amount of work
would fatigue him.
 So I should think, said Mr. Fudge, turning round so
that he could not see the gesticulations of Mr. Pinchbold,
who was making frantic signs to him in the distance.
"Let him go, cried Monsieur Garrot to the groom, who
was being lifted off the ground by the Demon in its efforts
to escape.
The groom made a virtue of necessity, and did let him
go. He was then dragged at full gallop from one end of
the yard to the other. Here he made a struggle which
somehow or other brought the Demon's head round, and
so he was conveyed back again at the same pace. Having
succeeded in guiding the Demon-horse to a place where his
career was checked by a dead wall, the animal was now
brought to a standstill.
 Great resources, said M. Garrot, quietly.
Mr. Fudge felt inclined for something with fewer
resources, so he made known to M. Garrot that he thought
the Demon-horse was a foot or two too large, and that he
should be obliged if he could show him something a size
smaller.
 Bring out the brown mare, Gustave, said M. Garrot.
The Demon-horse, after various plunges and rearings,
was somehow or other got into the stable-door, and Mr.
Pinchbold emerged from his place of retirement.
"It is hopeless, he said, as he approached the place
where Mr. Fudge was standing.
 Why, we have only just begun ! replied Mr. Fudge.
 The mere fact of such an animal as that being presented
to us at all is enough to discourage one, remarked Mr. P.;
 and here, by all that's dreadful, comes another. What
extraordinary hind-legs !
The remark of Mr. Pinchbold on the posterior extre-
u
A CRUISE UPON "WHEELS.
mities of the horse which was now trotted out for inspec-
tion, seemed certainly more than justifiable. Surely there
never were two hind-legs so far apart as those of "the
brown mare. When she turned her back and trotted up
the yard, the appearance presented was something so
remarkable that Mr. Fudge could not help commenting on
it to M. Garrot.
 They are not very far apart, said that gentleman.
"For the rest, if they were, it would only be a sign of
strength.
". It is a sign of some horrible kicking propensity, I feel
convinced, said Mr. Pinchbold.  Whatever you do,
Fudge, have nothing to do with that horse.
 According to you, my dear Pinchbold, replied Mr.
Fudge,  we should be in a fair way of having nothing to
do with any horse.
"Very well, said Mr. Pinchbold, "do as you like;
only mind, I've warned you! and, so saying, the good
gentleman retired up the yard, peeping into all sorts of
sheds and outhouses and unlikely places, with a firm con-
viction that M. Garrot had some animal of incalculable
value for their purpose concealed about his premises, and
kept out of sight till all the worse members of his stock
were got rid of.
Mr. Fudge, being left to dispose of the brown mare tin-
assisted, was obliged fairly to own that, in spite of M.
Garrot's assurances to the contrary, he was still so far
from satisfied about the animal's hind-legs that he would
decline to have anything more to say to her. After this a
piebald horse with pink eyelids was trotted out, and then
a horse "with a wall-eye, and then a fidgety horse, who
conducted himself as if he was standing upon red-hot iron,
and then a coughing horse, and then a horse whose fore-
legs gave unmistakeable symptoms of  firing, and then a
horse who shied completely across the yard (carrying the
groom with him) at sight of Mr. Fudge, which was a highly
satisfactory proceeding on the part of an animal who was
A MYSTEllY.
25
likely to see a good deal of the object of his alarm. In
short, it ended in all the horses in M. Garrot's stable being
trotted out for Mr. Fudge's inspection, with the exception
of some three or four, who could not be trotted out because
they were in such a state of lameness that they might be
said to have no legs to trot with.
Now, all this was very bewildering and unsatisfactory,
and Mr. Fudge was beginning to get so utterly confused
and hopeless, that he was on the point of requesting to see
once again the original white horse which they had first
examined, when his attention was caught by the sudden
reappearance of Mr. Pinchbold, who, approaching him with
an air of mystery, and with a countenance of ashy pallor, re-
quested a moment's private conversation without loss of time.
 What is the matter ? inquired Mr. Fudge, as soon as
the two friends had reached the seclusion of a distant dung-
hill, towards which, as a retired spot, Mr. Pinchbold ha^d
led the way.
 The matter, said Mr. P.,  is this, that I entreat you
to have nothing to do with any of this man's horses, because
I am perfectly convinced they are all a set of incarnate
fiends and monsters.
 But on what do you ground this tremendous accusa-
tion ? inquired Mr. Fudge.
"Never mind, said Mr. Pinchbold, in a voice of alarm,
 never mind now. I've seen something. I'll tell you by-
and-by; only for heaven's sake come away, and have
nothing to do with any of these diabolical animals that we
have been looking at. Now let us go and wish him good
morning, and be off.
Mr. Fudge did not attach much importance to his friend's
caution, knowing on what small grounds of foundation he
was in the habit of raising a gigantic superstructure of
panic. He was himself, however, not much enamoured of
any one of the horses they had been examining, and was,
therefore, not very averse to the idea of a retreat. Before
taking his departure he thought it good to return once more
26
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
to the subject of the white horse which they had seen at
first, and Avhich seemed the only one in the least likely to
answer his and his friend's purpose.
 I suppose, said Mr. Fudge, approaching M. Garrot
once more,  that in the event of our being disposed to
think seriously of one of your horses—the white one for
instance—it would be possible to try for ourselves ?
 Yes, said M. Garrot, rather hesitatingly;  yes—one
of my men or myself will drive out with you whenever
you like.
 It would not be possible, then, for us to have the horse
for a day to try by ourselves? Mr. Fudge inquired.
 No, M. Garrot replied;  that would be out of the
question.
 Ha ! said Mr. Pinchbold, aside,  I don't like that.
 Yery well, then, said Mr. Fudge, not knowing exactly
what to say,  we will take a little time to think about it.
In affairs of this importance one does not decide all at
once.
 As you will, remarked M. Garrot, in the dry tone of
one who would have been just as well pleased if they had
decided all at once. "As you will  and then he
hesitated.
 You were going to say? Mr. Fudge inquired.
 I was going to say, replied the horsedealer,  with
regard to the white horse 
"Yes, interposed Mr. Pinchbold, eagerly.
 Are you two gentlemen much accustomed to being
with horses? inquired M. Garrot, addressing Mr. Pinch-
bold, as the last speaker.
"No, replied that gentleman, hastily, "I am not,
certainly.
The horsedealer turned inquiringly to Mr. Fudge.
 I have from time to time been in the habit of riding
and driving, though not continually, answered Mr.
Fudge.
A SLIGHT DRAWBACK.
27
 But in the stable ? inquired M. Garrot;  have you
seen much of horses in the stable ?
"No, replied Mr. Fudge, frankly: "but why do you ask?
 Oh, for no particular reason, answered M. Garrot;
 only the white horse is rather difficult to manage at times
in the stable.
 At what times ? asked Mr. Pinchbold, in a quavering
voice, and stealing a look at the animal in question, as if
he expected to see him doing some terrible thing then and
there.  At what times ?
 Oh, only when he is being fed. He is apt to be a
little ferocious at sight of his oats ; but as you would not
have to feed him yourselves 
 On the contrary, Mr. Fudge interrupted,  in the
■course of a journey of the kind we contemplate, that might
sometimes be necessary.
 Ah, remarked M. Garrot, who may have had reasons
of his own for disparaging the Avhite horse, in order that
Mr. Fudge and his friend might fix upon another of less
capacity,  in that case you would have to be careful, or
jou might chance to get a nip of his teeth.
"There! said Mr. Pinchbold, triumphantly, to his
companion.  There—didn't I tell you he was a biter ?
 There is the brown mare, now, said M. Garrot;  she
has no vice.
 What, the animal with the hind legs 
 Well separated, continued the dealer.  She is the
beast for you.
Mr. Fudge not appearing to be so fully convinced of
this fact as M. Garrot could desire, that gentleman pro-
ceeded to expatiate at some length upon all the qualities
possessed by the animal in question, and especially on the
advantages inseparable from a considerable space between
the hind legs of a horse which was intended for purposes
of draught. Mr. Fudge, however, was not to be brought
to commit himself, and the utmost concession that the
28
A CfOTISE UPON WHEELS.
horsedealer could obtain, was a conditional promise that
perhaps he might hear from Mr. Fudge upon the subject
again on a future day.
 In the mean time, said Mr. Fudge,  perhaps you can
tell me where I can meet with a cabriolet, or some such
vehicle adapted to a journey, for my friend here and I are
in want of a carriage as well as a horse?
M. Garrot did as he was requested, and signified that a
certain M. Brancard, resident in the Rue de Guise, and the
principal coachmaker in Malaise, would be the man for
their purpose.
With this, and with many ineffectual efforts on the part
of M. Garrot to involve the two friends in a promise
to visit his stables again at some definite period, the inter-
view terminated; and at last, to Mr. Pinchbold's great
relief, the two gentlemen found themselves clear of M.
Garrot's establishment without having finally committed
themselves to anything.
 And now, said Mr. Fudge, as they walked along,
11 tell me at once what it was that you saw at M. Garrot's
which caused you so much disturbance, and made you in
such a hurry to leave the place ?
 Well, you must know, then, replied Mr. Pinchbold,
 that when I left you watching the straddling movements
of that hideous brown mare, I went off to see if I could find
some horse of superior qualifications concealed about the
premises. I opened all sorts of doors, and poked into all
sorts of places where I had no business, till at last I got
round to the back of the main range of stabling, and into a
sort of place something between a yard and a small
scrubby-looking field. As I approached this place, I heard
a great hammering and clinking, such as you hear in a
blacksmith's shop, and as soon as I had looked about me I
saw two or three people at the other end of the yard, busy
at some occupation or other, and as I saw that there was a
horse among them, and that the noises I heard came from
the position they occupied, I went up to them. Well, I
THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED.
29
found on closer inspection that the group I had seen from
a distance consisted of a couple of blacksmiths, and a man
who looked like a stable-helper, and that they had a horse
there whom they had fastened into a sort of immense cage
of wooden bars that looked like a rack or some other
instrument of torture. I never saw such a horrible-looking
thing as it was altogether: the unfortunate beast was, to
begin with, not resting on the ground at all. It was sup-
ported by a broad band of sacking which passed under its
stomach, and the two sides of which were hauled up to the
top of the wooden cage till the animal was off its legs. Its
two fore legs were stretched out forward and fastened to
two upright pillars in front, and one of its hind legs was
stretched out behind, and fastened to another upright pillar
at the back, while the other was held in the grasp of one
of the blacksmiths, the other being occupied in fitting a shoe
on to the foot. The poor wretch's head, too, I forgot to
say, was tied up so tightly to the top of the cage that it
could not move it, and could hardly even breathe.
 1 What are you about with that horse V I said, as soon
as I could find words to express myself in.
 ' We are shoeing it,' one of the men answered.
 ' And why is it tied up in that inhuman manner ?' was
my next question.
 i Oh, it is mediant, said the man, who looked like a
groom; ' and if it was not secured, would kick us all to
pieces.'
 ' Oh, indeed,' I said; 1 and are there other horses like
that V
 1 Plenty,' said the man.
"Well, Fudge, continued Mr. Pinchbold,  I assure you
that what I saw and heard left such a horrible impression
upon my mind that I could not shake it off; and I deter-
mined to come at once and caution you.
 But how do you know that the horse you saw was one
of M. Garrot's ? inquired Mr. Fudge.
 Because I asked, was Mr. Pinchbold's answer,  and
30
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
ey told me it -was. Oh, he continued presently, "it
was a horrible sight; and I am convinced that all the
orses in that place are shoed in the same way, and that it
will be insanity to have anything to do with any of them.
It was useless for Mr. Fudge to argue that the mere fact
of one of M. Garrot's horses being shoed at the Travail—as
the machine was called-—was no proof that all the rest
were. ^ Mr. Pinchbold remained firm in his conviction;
and triumphantly referred to his having discovered that the
white horse was a confirmed biter, in proof of his powers of
discernment in all such matters.
31
CHAPTER IH.
the plot thickens, and the header is introduced to bijou,
the "pearl of malaise.
The suggestion of Monsieur Garrot brought the two heroes
of this story back to Malaise as fast as they could walk;
and on arriving in the Rue de Guise, they made their way
at once to the house that had been indicated to them as the
residence of Monsieur Brancard, the coachmaker. It was
a house with a great open shop, which led through to the
forge, and to the atelier at the back, where all the work
was done. As Mr. Fudge and the partner of his toils
approached the shop-door, they observed that a man was
doing something or other to a great lumbering cart which
stood out in the street, and in the shafts of which a powerful ■
white mare was standing looking lazily up the street, and
now and then nodding a little, as if she had been there
a long time, and thought it a good opportunity of taking a
wink or two of sleep en passant.
 What a handsome mare, remarked Mr. Fudge to his
friend.
 She looks quiet, too, observed the other, eharac-
teristically.
By this time the two friends had arrived at the shop-
door. The man who was hammering at the cart looked up
as they drew near ; and Mr. Fudge concluding at once that
he was the proprietor of the establishment, proceeded at
once to business, and inquired whether he happened to
know of a cabriolet or a carriole for sale at that time.
32
A CRUISE UPOX WHEELS.
 Of both, said the man, with tremendous alacrity, and
instantly abandoning his occupation.
 Where are they to be seen ? inquired Mr. Fudge.
 Here, at two steps off, was the answer.
 And when could we see them ?
"Now, this instant, said the eager man, bursting into a
cold perspiration of excitement.  Only take the trouble
to come with me, and you shall see the best cabriolet, and
the choicest carriole, to be found in Malaise, or its neigh-
bourhood.
Mr. Fudge and his friend having signified their readiness
to start, the eager man called to a child about two feet
high, who was standing near, and telling him to mind the
horse, led the way at a rapid pace, which made him perspire
more than ever.
 That must be a quiet beast to be left in charge of that
infant, remarked Mr. Pinchbold.
 It must, indeed, answered his friend, looking back
admiringly at the mare;  how I should like such an
animal.
 There, said the eager man, stopping to wipe, not his
heated, but his chilled brow, with a handkerchief that he
took out of his breeches pocket. They had arrived, after
passing through two or three streets, at the shop of a harness-
maker, in front of which a light gig was placed, with its
shafts resting on the ground.
 There, said the perspiring man, pointing to the gig,
• is the vehicle for your purpose.
 But it is not a cabriolet, said Mr. Fudge.
 It looks very slight and insecure, remarked Mr.
Pinchbold, in an undertone.
 Not a cabriolet, shouted the eager man.  Look
here, he added, pointing to some iron clasps which were
placed round the back and sides of the gig,  there is a
capote, or hood, which fastens on to these; when that is
fixed, find me such another cabriolet if you can.
 But isn't it rather small ? asked Mr. Fudge.
MONSIEUR GRISOIS.
33
"Small! screamed the man; "it is enormous. How
many is it for ?
 Why, for two, of course, replied Mr. Fudge.
 Two, replied the man;  why it holds me, my
wife, my brother-in-law, my children, all at once, with
ease.
 And the luggage, where would that go ? inquired Mr.
Fudge.
The eager man lifted up a trap-door in the seat of the
gig which gave access to a receptacle which would perhaps,
at a pinch, have contained a very small carpet-bag, suppos-
ing it had been made on purpose to fit it.
 Not room enough, said Mr. Fudge to his friend,  I
am afraid. Where could we put the cooking utensils
which we ought to take ?
 Besides our personal luggage, urged Mr. P.
 Then there should be a chafing-dish, said Mr.
Fudge.
 And the pistols, said Mr. P.; "I insist upon
pistols.
"No, it will not do, said Mr. Fudge, addressing the
man, who had been standing during this short dialogue
holding the trap-door open with a triumphant aspect;
 there is not room enough.
It was in vain that the eager man protested that there
was room ; in vain that he rushed into the harness-maker's
shop and dragged out its owner, that he also might say
there was room ; in vain that he appealed to the bystanders,
who were five or six strong of course, and who all said
there was room ; in vain that he entreated our two friends
to step round to his house and ask his wife if there was
not room ; his children, his neighbours, they would tell the
gentlemen whether there was room. It was in vain, in
short, that he raved, and roared, and perspired; in vain
that he wiped his brow and appealed to heaven. Mr.
Fudge and his friend were firm, and would not have any-
thing to say to the gig.
D
34
A CRUISE UrON WHEELS.
"Letus see the carriole, said Mr. Fudge.
"Ah ! said the eager man, changing his tactics at once,.
 the carriole, that is the vehicle for you; strong, roomy,
easy, the carriole will fit these gentlemen, continued M.
Grisois, turning to the public,  as if it were a glove.
The bystanders moaned a soft assent, and the eager
man rushed off1 in search of a certain brother-in-law,
without whose consent it appeared that the carriole could
not be inspected.
This brother-in-law was a man of few words, and who,
when he did speak, rather seemed to have the interests of
Messrs. Fudge and Pinchbold at heart than his own or his
relative's, with whom he would sometimes even expostulate
about some trifling matter in which he appeared a little too
careful of his own interest. He was a pale man, and he
wore a frock-coat and a cap.
 Do you happen to know, said Mr. Fudge, turning to
the excited man, as they walked along towards the stables
where the carriole was to be seen,  do you happen to
know of any one who has a good horse for sale ?
 Do you hear that ? cried the eager man, not answer-
bag the question, but appealing at once to his relative.
 Do you hear ? This gentleman wants to know if I happen
to know of any one who has a good horse for sale.
 Well, continued Mr. Fudge,  do you happen to know
of' any -one ?
 I happen to know of one, replied the eager man, who
possesses an animal without its equal on the surface of the
globe.
 Is it quiet ? asked Mr. Pinchbold.
 Quiet! Ha, ha ! An infant in arms might drive it
with a rein of darning cotton.
 Good heavens ! said Mr. Pinchbold,  what a charming
animal. Is it sure-footed ?
 Sure-footed 1 Ha, ha! You may drive it down a
precipice without a drag, and it will not stumble. Stay,
continued Monsieur Grisois, and, as if to render further
THE PEARL OP MALAISE.
35
questioning unnecessary, he stopped short in the middle of
the street, and addressing himself to Mr. Pinchbold only,
burst into the following eloquent description of the animal
whose qualities he was vaunting:  She is quiet—she is
strong—she is beautiful—she is afraid of nothing—railway-
trains, engines, omnibuses, wheelbarrows, steam-boats—
(a source of panic, by the bye, by which horses are not
likely to be much incommoded).  She is afraid of no-
thing—nothing in the world. She is sound, with lungs of
such a quality that you might drive her up Mont Blanc at
fall gallop. She is sweet-tempered, she is lovely to behold;
in short, she is known to all the town by but one title,
' The Pearl of Malaise ! !' 
 And to whom does she belong ? inquired Mr. Pinch-
bold, breathlessly.
 To me, replied Monsieur Grisois, drawing himself up
and proudly slapping his breast.
 Is it the horse we saw just now in the Rue de Guise,
standing in a cart?
 The very same, was the answer.
 Now, Fudge, hear me, said Mr. Pinchbold, turning
hastily to his friend.  From the first moment I saw that
animal I had a presentiment that it was the horse we wanted.
For heaven's sake don't let us lose such a chance.
 We must not be in a hurry, said Mr. Fudge, cau-
tiously.  And pray, Monsieur Grisois, he continued,
presently turning to the owner of  la Perle de Malaise,
 may I ask, since this horse that you speak of is so faultless
a beast, why you are disposed to part with it.
 Why am I disposed to part with her ? repeated Mon-
sieur Grisois, as if to gain a little time.  I part with her
—I part with her—because 
"Because, interposed the brother-in-law, "she is too
good for him.
 Yes, continued the excited Grisois,  that is it. She
is too good. I shall ruin her. You saw her but now in a
cart. I am obliged to take her long distances with heavy
d 2
36
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
loads. I shall destroy her; yes, she is too good for me.
It is because I know her qualities—because I love her, that
I will sell her.
 Hum ! said Mr. Fudge.
 A fine fellow that, said Mr. Pinchbold, speaking in
the English tongue.  I like him for that.
 And what may be the price of this ' Bijou,' as you call
her? inquired Mr. Fudge.
 Pier price, said Monsieur Grisois, with an effort, and
taking off his cap to wipe his brow;  her price is nine
hundred and fifty francs.
 Whew—ew, ejaculated Mr. Fudge;  that is a good
deal of money.
 Thirty-eight pounds, remarked Mr. Pinchbold, after an
interval devoted to mental arithmetic.
"You have asked these gentlemen too much, interposed
the brother-in-law ;  nine hundred francs would be dif-
ferent. That is the price you should ask.
 Yery well, said Grisois, "then I make that concession.
Nine hundred francs be it, but not a farthing under.
 Thirty-six pounds, said Mr. Pinchbold.  It is a
good deal; but still no money is too much for a quiet horse.
 It is ridiculous, said Mr. Fudge ;  not to be thought
of. We should be ruined at that rate.
"You shall see her, gentlemen, interposed Monsieur
Grisois;  my brother will take you to the stable where
the carriole stands, and I will go back and fetch the mare
and bring her to you there.
"Well, there is no harm in seeing her, said Mr. Fudge,
as Grisois, perspiring more than ever, darted off in execution
of his intention.
Arrived at the stable, the friends, attended by the brother-
in-law, had plenty of time to examine the carriole, while
Monsieur Grisois himself was gone in search of Bijou. It
was a great heavy vehicle on two wheels, something like an
ordinary tradesman's cart, more elegant in shape, and with
a kind of apron in front. It is enough to say that it was
THE PEARL OP MALAISE.
37
very large, and so cheap that Mr. Fudge seemed inclined to
treat for it, had not Mr. Pinchbold suggested a horrid doubt
whether there would not be a  wobbling movement in a
vehicle on two wheels, which would be intolerable during a
long journey ; and this remark gave rise to a discussion at
some length, which was only interrupted by the sound of
hoofs approaching the stable, a sound which announced
at ohce the arrival of Bijou.
The  Pearl of Malaise was certainly a well-favoured
beast, and both Mr. Fudge and Mr. Pinchbold felt as they
looked at her a degree of admiration which it was not easy
to conceal. She was a white mare standing about fifteen
and a half hands, and, with the exception of being a little
heavy, was almost perfectly proportioned. High and
strongly built in the breast, with a good oblique shoulder,
the cavity of the chest large and deep, well planted on her
legs, with knees guiltless of a scar, short in the loins, but
yet somewhat long in the body from the extent backwards
of the chest, and the capacious size of the haunches, the
mare seemed, except from having a rather heavy neck and
head—not serious faults in a draught-horse—to be every-
thing that a purchaser could desire. As for her temper,
there could be no doubt about that; the only defect of her
disposition was one which not uncommonly accompanies an
easy temper—she was rather lazy. You could see it in her
quiet eye and undistended nostril; she was a little phleg-
matic and sluggish. But then, what qualities went with
this tendency—nay, were inseparable parts of it—what firm
nerves, what an undisturbed serenity! An animal, this,
that you might leave standing at a door unguarded, a beast
on whose neck you might hang the reins as you walked up
hill by her side, or with whom you might venture upon
that most hazardous of all experiments—the administering cj.
a feed, en route, without taking her out of the shafts. In
short, she was just the kind of beast for long days of
leisurely travelling and loitering by the way, not one to
W6cir herself ontj or with whom one could press forw&rd
38
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
post-haste, but still an animal of great resources, and with
regard to whom one would have no fears whatever of the
possibility of a break-down.
 What an angelic countenance ! said Mr. Pinchbold, as
the  Pearl turned her head round and surveyed the two
friends with a good-natured, lazy stare.
Mr. Fudge was, in his own inmost heart, not a whit
behind his companion in his admiration of M. Grisois' mare,
but he did not allow himself to give expression to what he
felt. He looked at her critically, and examined her with that
disparaging air with which those who are about to make a
purchase should always regard the object of their desire.
As for M. Grisois himself, he was, if possible, louder and
more ecstatic in his admiration of his horse now in her
presence than he had been before in her absence. All the
phrases which he had poured forth in such volleys at the
first mention of Bijou were again recapitulated, and many
more new ones added for the occasion.
 There's an animal, said M. Grisois, at the conclusion
of his tirade ;  there is calmness ! You may drive her
through the fire, and let off pistols by the side of her head,
and she will not mind. You may mount her, he con-
tinued, turning suddenly to Mr. Pinchbold, who shook his
head—"mount her! why you may dance upon her back and
she will remain quiet. You will call her and she will come
to you and follow you about like a dog, as she does my
wife. See, she comes when she is called—Bijou, Bijou
(the animal walked away). There, said M. Grisois,
lugging her back by the halter,  there's docility for you!
Find me such another mare as that in Malaise if you
can.
If Mr. Pinchbold had been left to his own devices, there
is little doubt that he would have walked out of M. Grisois'
stable with Bijou at his heels, but he was possessed of a
cautious Mentor in his friend Mr. Fudge. It was one part
of that gentleman's character never to decide on any point
till he had heard all that was to be said about it, and never
A DESIRABLE PURCHASE.
39
to select any object, animate or inanimate, till be had seen
as large a collection as possible of such objects, and had
endeavoured, by comparing one with another, to arrive at a
safe conclusion as to the comparative merits of all the can-
didates for his favour.
 We must see more horses before we decide, he said,
 nor can we think of committing ourselves to Bijou, or any
other member of her race, without first taking the opinion
of a veterinary surgeon as to her soundness.
Mr. Pinchbold had nothing to urge against these sugges-
tions, except his own longing to become possessed of the
mare, and so with the somewhat vague promise that they
 would think about it, the two friends took their leave of
M. Grisois and his brother-in-law, for the present.
Nothing could exceed the energy with which Mr. Fudge
went to work to attain his object. He went up to un-
offending people who were sitting in their covered carts
waiting at house-doors to ask whether perchance the horse
in their shafts was for sale. He even addressed the Com-
missaire de Police, a wonderful-looking man, with a
Vandyke beard and huge spectacles, on the subject; and on
another occasion went the length of stopping the principal
medical man in Malaise to ask him if he knew of a horse for
sale.
The result of these wide-spread inquiries is that it soon
becomes known all over Malaise and its environs that the
two English gentlemen are in want of a horse and carriage,
and very soon it happens that just as they had stopped
strangers in the street to ask if they knew of a horse or
carriole for sale, so strangers now stop them in the street,
to say that in a stable hard by there is a marvellous horse
or an unprecedented vehicle if they will but step aside and
look at it. Then they do step aside and look at it, and a
more remarkable collection of quadrupeds, or a more
eccentric combination of carriages, than these researches
disclose to them, it would be difficult to conceive. Horses
with one leg—or perhaps two or three—in the grave;
40
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
horses who should be spending the decline of life in an
elegant leisure of fields and pastures; horses so old that
their teeth seem to be about two inches long; horses
which shake all over as they are propped up from behind
for inspection; horses with fore-legs arched like a bent
bow, and swollen about the fetlocks with immoderate
labour.
Throughout all their researches, too, the friends were
haunted not only mentally but corporeally by the  Pearl
of Malaise. They were always meeting her about the
streets, where her owner seemed to keep her lying in wait
for their approach, or meeting her if they walked out of the
town, harnessed to the carriole, and looking the embodi-
ment of health and power as she trotted along. On one
occasion, too, when Mr. Fudge and his friend were crossing
the Place d'Annes, they saw Bijou standing in a conspi-
cuous place held by the head by M. Grisois, while a know-
mg-iooking man in boots was examining her all over, just
as purchasers do before buying a horse. It was curious,
too, how everybody to whom they spoke of the mare was
enthusiastic in praising her, and this in one instance espe-
cially was so remarkable, as almost to appear to the wary Mr.
Fudge a reason for increased caution and apprehensiveness.
Among the number of those persons to whom our two
friends had been sent with wonderful accounts of what they
might expect to find in reward for their trouble, was a
certain Monsieur Porquet, who was a sort of combination
of a horsedealer and an innkeeper, a kind of amalgamation
which is not uncommon in the French dominions. He was
a wonderful old scamp this M. Porquet, belonging, too, to
that particular tribe that affects a sort of stupidity and
carelessness, but keeps a sharp look-out after the main
chance all the time. He was the kind of man who confuses
you in making a bargain by first saying one thing and then
another, by pretending to forget what you have said, or what
he has said himself, assuming all the time a kind of joking,
extravagant manner, which leads you to think you can do
MONSIEUR PORQUET's STABLE.
41
anything you like with him, that he does not care about his
property or what you do with it.
You want to see his horses, do you ? Oh, by all means,
there they are, he will show you the way; you will like to
try one and drive him yourself, that is natural; well,
whenever you like. See, there is that brown mare, she
would do; would you like her, or what do you think of
that gray ? He is a little treasure, take him. The price ?
Oh, we can talk of that another time; take him out and
try him. Or, look at this bay, what's the reason he should
not do ? No, not that chestnut, he's too spirited, a dan-
gerous animal, belonged to an English gentleman : you
know him, monsieur, he was a Meester Smith, of London;
well, Meester Smith could not drive him, and sold him as
unmanageable ; no, you must not have him.
All this time M. Porquet is threading his way along the
dark stable, and hushing and quieting each horse as he
passes, apparently in great bodily fear of the whole collec-
tion. Presently, without looking at either Mr. Fudge or
Mr. Pinchbold, he says :—
 You, gentlemen, have been looking at Grisois' white
mare, have you not ? Why don't you take her ? a better
beast does not exist in Malaise. She was mine once, and I
sold her to Grisois, so I know all about her.
"Do you hear that, Mr. Pinchbold said, on hearing
this cordial recommendation. "Here is the opinion of a
rival even favourable.
 Ye-e-s, said Mr. Fudge, reflectively.
 Why, what can you want now, Fudge ? inquired Mr.
Pinchbold, speaking under his breath.  What interest
can he have in our buying Bijou ?
 That is exactly what I am trying to find out, replied
Mr. Fudge, Avho then proceeded to put many pertinent and
searching questions to this horse-dealing innkeeper, or inn-
keeping horsedealer,- whichever he was to be considered, all
of which, however, the other managed to evade. Indeed
M. Porquet had every means at his command for slipping
4-2
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
out of any difficulty in which he might find himself; for not
only could he completely avoid the giving a direct answer
to any question that might be put to him by flying off
instantly to something else, but he was surrounded by a
quantity of mysterious friends and dependents who all
seemed to take their cue from him, and who praised his
horses or Bijou indifferently, and Avho were quite as ready
to promise everything and do nothing as the patron
himself.
 There is a horse, if you like, said M. Porquet, hobbling
goutily up to the gray horse, and smacking him on the hind-
quarter.  There is a horse for you !
 Ah, sighed a dependent,  what a horse !
 Horse and a half that, remarked a stableman, in an
equivalent French idiom.
 I'll tell you about that horse, cried a friend in a blouse,
who elbowed his way to a front place and addressed M.
Porquet, and not our two friends in the slightest degree.
 It is a horse, said the man in the blouse,  to make a
friend of; hang the reins on a hook and go to sleep in a
carriage, and he drives himself, no reins wanted, no whip-—
a horse that is cheap at any price.
 What is his price ? screamed a new friend, bouncing
into the yard like an expiring firework, and in his turn
pushing his way among the friends and dependents till he
got to a front place.  What is the price of your horse,
Monsieur Porquet ? Good morning, Monsieur Porquet;
good morning, gentlemen all. What is the price of that
inestimable horse, Monsieur Porquet ?
 Bah ! replied M. Porquet;  his price is a thousand
francs.
 No, cried the other, dashing about the yard still like
an expiring firework, poking into outhouses, and sheds, and
stables, and out of them again, as if looking for something,
 No—no. Ah, there is the brown mare, and there the bay
horse, all excellent—all your horses are excellent. I know
MONSIEUR PORQTJET'S STABLE.
43
them all, all excellent: but a thousand francs, for example,
is too much. No, no, not a thousand—not a thousand.
 Well then, we will say nine hundred, turning round,
and winking at Mr. Fudge, to that gentleman's intense
mystification.
 Ah, for example, nine hundred is different, cried the
excitable man— that is altogether different; nine hundred
is not dear, that, my dear M. Porquet, is not dear; nine
hundred is different. And with that the excitable man
tore out of the yard as violently as he had rushed into it,
and was seen no more.
 What a mysterious set of people these are, said Mr.
Pinchbold.
Indeed they were. The short specimen here given was
only one of eight or ten similar scenes through which our
friends passed in the course of that number of visits to M.
Porquet's stables. Appointment after appointment was
made for trying his horses, but, for some reason or other,
they were never kept. The horse to be tried was out, or
had been out, and was tired. A journey had had to be
performed in haste, and the only available horse for the
purpose was the one which Mr. Fudge wanted to try. Nay,
to such an extremity Avere things driven at last, that one
day, Avhen the two friends arrived, bent on trying the
celebrated gray, M. Porquet met them at the stable-door,
with the assurance that it was impossible on that occasion,
as the horse had gone lame.
This last excuse was so completely successful that both
Mr. Fudge and his friend resolved, from that moment, to
have nothing more to do Avith M. Porquet or his horses
either—a determination, however, Avhich brought no ces-
sation of their toils. Urge it as he would, it Avas impossible
for Mr. Pinchbold to persuade his friend to conclude at
once the purchase of Bijou, and so bring the affair to an
end. Mr. Fudge had taken it into his head that M. Por-
quet had some share in the sale of Grisois' mare; and this
44
A CRUISE UPOX WHEELS.
caused him to feel a great mistrust and doubt about her.
At all events, he was determined to see everything in the
shape of a horse that Malaise or its neighbourhood could
produce before coming to a decision. Many were the
excursions undertaken by the two friends, at all sorts of
seasons, and in all sorts of weather, in pursuit of horses or
carriages, which they were told they would infallibly find
at their journey's end. There never was such a life as
they led. Their meals were all consumed at irregular
times; dinners were put off, and dinners were hurried on,
and many were the opportunities offered to the malignant
Agnes of sending up their food in every varied condition of
spoliation—opportunities which, let us do her the justice
to say, she was never slow to avail herself of. There was,
indeed, one occasion when our two Englishmen were so
pressed for time, in their impatience to bring their re-
searches to a conclusion, that they were compelled—Agnes
having gone home, as was her custom, in the afternoon, to
her own dinner—to prepare their meal themselves. The
result of this desperate attempt, the practical part of which
devolved upon Mr. Fudge, was the production of certain
blackened fragments of calcined matter, which he jocularly
described as a dish of cutlets, and which proving wholly
uneatable, were carried, in the dead of night, into the
Place d'Armes, and there cast loose upon society; this
being the plan hit upon by the united genius of Messrs.
Fudge and Pinchbold, to avoid the discovery by their
domestic of the culinary failure of which they had been
guilty.
This memorable day of the cutlets was that on which,
in the midst of a drenching rain, the two friends set off in
a sort of compromise between a diligence and an omnibus
to a neighbouring town, where they had been told there
was a perfect glut of carriages of the kind they wanted. It
was, moreover, the memorable day of their first finding
themselves under the conduct of a female driver, with
whom (and a friend of hers, who would squeeze herself in)
AX EXCURSION IN THE RAIN.
45
they shared the coupe. This was the day, too, when on
arriving in the dnsk of the evening at the place that had
been indicated to them, they were shown over a yard where
all kinds of gaunt skeletons, in the shape of unfinished
carriages, were scattered about, but where there was no
single one that was finished or available. This, again, was
the day when Mr. Pinchbold's hat was blown off into a
muddy place, and his umbrella turned inside out by the
wind. It was the day when Mr. Fudge, the cutlets having
failed, went up to the door of the principal auberge, and
inquiring if they could have anything to eat, was told that
there was nothing, but that it would be market-day to-
morrow. Finally, it was the day when both gentlemen
determined on beating a speedy retreat back to Malaise, at
which place they arrived again under the auspices of the
lady-driver, at about ten o'clock in the evening, wet and
exhausted, and were received by Agnes with the intelligence
that the fire which they had made in the kitchen had
caused a fissure in the stove from its fierceness, and that
the burnt grease which they had spilt on the carpet of the
salle a manger had rendered that piece of upholstery useless
thenceforth and for ever.
Nor was the excursion to the Beau Marais Farm, where
they heard that they would find their affair—the invariable
phrase—much more full of result than their other researches.
At this place, which was situated in the middle of a dreary
waste, about five miles from Malaise, they found about
half-a-dozen colts, all of the cart-horse tribe, and so heavy
that when they were forced into a trot, the very earth
shook under their weight. Here, too, they found that not
uncommon character, a thin and astute French firmer, who
met every objection to his property with flat denial, who
understood nothing that it was to his purpose not to under-
stand, and seized everything which suited his purpose with
astounding quickness. Here also were the inevitable friends
who went into ecstasies about every animal which was
trotted out, who took Mr. Fudge aside to tell him that he
46
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
would never have such a chance again ; and then took Mr.
Pinchbold aside, greatly to his alarm, to communicate the
same thing to him; and at this place at last, or, at any
xate, in walking home from it, they came to the conclusion
that it was Bijou or nothing, and that they would go the
length the next day of trying the Pearl of Malaise in Mon-
■sieur Grisois' carriole.
47
CHAPTER IV.
in the course op this chapter all difficulties are overcome
by the energy a&d resolution of mr. fudge, and the
"cruise upon wheels begins.
The trial of Bijou was in all respects satisfactory, saving
and excepting that the laziness which her appearance had
suggested came out occasionally in the course of the trial
trip. It was a short one. The owner of the animal, who
would not let her go without him, even for a short drive,
took the reins, Mr. Fudge sat beside him, watching eagerly
every movement, and every absence of movement on the
part of his contemplated purchase, while Mr. Pinchbold sat
upon a back seat, and stared between the two heads in
front of him at Bijou's white ears. The conversation
consisted chiefly of a monologue of rapture uttered by M.
Grisois, interrupted by occasional shouts to the mare when
she gave indications of a tendency to relax in her pace.
Throughout the trial trip, the rain poured in torrents,
and the wind blew a hurricane, and as, in consequence of
the direction which M. Grisois had taken, the rain was
driven straight into the interior of the carriole, our two
friends were neither of them unwilling to consent when M.
Grisois, after driving about three miles out of Malaise,
proposed that they should turn and go back again.
 Three miles is as good as thirty, M. Grisois remarked,
u to test the paces and behaviour of an animal. An obser-
vation in the truth of which Mr. Pinchbold was very ready
to believe, and even Mr. Fudge, though not quite feeling
48
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
so convinced on the subject as his friend, made no objec-
tion to M. Grisois' proposition, being rather cold and wet,
and in reality very well pleased with the mare, whose
behaviour, with the exception of that sluggishness which
has been already noticed, was quite unexceptionable.
On the return of the party to Malaise, a short conference
took place apart between Mr. Pinchbold and his friend,
after which Mr. Fudge made an appointment with Grisois for
that same afternoon, when he would come to the stable in
company with a veterinary surgeon, for the purpose of
examining Bijou thoroughly all ove», before making an
offer.
Of course the trial trip being over, the weather cleared
up, and when Mr. Fudge started for the abode of the vete-
rinary surgeon it was quite a fine and sunny afternoon.
Mr. Pinchbold remained at home, having to write what he
called—it being part of the fiction of his "onerous legal
responsibilities— letters on business, which, by the bye,
were generally addressed to members of his own family, or
bore on their outsides the name of his laundress in the
Temple.
M. Morve—which was the name of the medical autho-
rity whom Mr. Fudge was about to consult—lived exactly
opposite to the abode of our two friends, but his dwelling
was at the extremity of a long court-yard, and was indeed
a sort of pavilion situated at the back of the houses in the
main street. He was, as both Mr. Fudge and his friend
had often remarked in seeing him go in and out, a tremen-
clous old scamp to look at, and bore no resemblance what-
ever to the members of his profession in England, who
present commonly an appearance something between a
groom and a chemist. M. Morve looked like neither, but
wore rather a military appearance, having a cap with a
turned-up brim, and a white moustache and chintuft of
great length. M. Morve wore also a pair of enormous
round spectacles, which if they were added with the inten-
tion of imparting a look of responsibility and respectability
A MEDICAL AUTHORITY.
49
to his appearance, might be considered a failure. In short,
he looked like an elderly gentleman who had deserted from
the army in early life, had then set up in business as a
smuggler of bad cigars and a vendor of stolen puppies.
He was always accompanied by a large white dog of the
breed known in France by the name of  Lou-lous.
As Mr. Fudge walked up the long courtyard or garden
that led to this medical gentleman's abode, he observed
that M. Morve was seated at his door in an arm-chair, and
was engaged in the interesting occupation of searching for
any specimens of an entomological kind that might lurk
concealed in the fur of his favourite dog. In short, he was
fleaing the animal very carefully, while his daughter, a
young lady of coquettish appearance, stood in the doorway
reading the newspaper to her father. The dog was the
first to perceive Mr. Fudge's approach, and he dropped
at once into position before his master, who was just at the
moment finishing a flea upon his nail.
M. Morve was too important a medical authority to hear
a word Mr. Fudge had to say till both gentlemen were
closeted in his professional study at the back of the pavilion.
It was a room presenting a curious combination of a betting-
office and a surgery—being adorned with portraits of
horses and shelves full of drugs alternately. The smell,
too, was an exactly balanced composition of the doggy and
the physicky, which was very curious and impressive.
Having learnt—for an economist like Mr. Fudge always
makes his bargains beforehand—that M. Morve's fee was a
modest three francs only, and having further ascertained
that his time was at that moment at Mr. Fudge's service,
that gentleman proposed an immediate start for the stable,
and M. Morve having exchanged his military cap for a
very curly-brimmed hat, and having further prepared
himself for an appearance in the streets by arming himself
with a gold-headed cane, the pair set off at once; a short,
whispered dialogue, probably having reference to the three
francs, having taken place first between the veterinary
E
50
A. CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
gentleman and his better-half. Mr. Fudge thought, from
what he overheard, that the conversation consisted of an
expostulatory address on the part of the lady, who was out-
raged that the excellent Morve had not made a better
bargain. As Mr. Fudge and his companion passed out,
the former gentleman remarked that Mr. Pinchbold was,
in the intervals of a  letter on business, looking out of
window.
M. Morve, like a great many people who have either
very little that is worth showing, or a great deal that they
don't want to show, was very silent. He had never heard
of Bijou, which Mr. Fudge thought an odd thing in so-
small a place as Malaise, had never seen her, never heard
of M. Grisois. He would say nothing about his profession,
was not of Mr. Fudge's opinion that there was a great deal
of roguery connected with the horse trade—quite the con-
trary—nor did he think it very difficult to get a good
horse ; there were plenty to be had if you knew where to
look for them, and had a discreet adviser to assist you in
your choice.
The discreet adviser whom Mr. Fudge had chosen, and
who was the only member of his profession at Malaise, was
evidently up to all the business of his craft, and went
through a series of performances on arriving at Bijou's
stable, which the reader may perhaps wish to hear described
in case he should ever desire to assume the appearance of
a judge of horseflesh.
First of all then, you must of course assume, as in the
application of all sorts of tests to all sorts of wares, a
frowning and disparaging air, and so above all things you
will do well to hold your tongue as much as possible, and
perhaps you may even with advantage follow M. Garrot's
example, and keep a straw in your mouth as a gag.
The first Idling to do on arriving in the stable is to stand
for a short time in moody silence, taking a back view of
the animal before you, and quietly noticing how he stands,
whether on all his four legs at once or with one bent and
HOW TO CHOOSE A HOUSE.
51
at rest, in which case yon will remember the bent leg, and
keep a sharp look-ont upon it throughout the succeeding
examination. Having stood a sufficient time at the animal's
hind-quarters, you will turn gloomily to the owner of the
horse and say  Quiet ? interrogatively, after which, if
the implied question is answered in the affirmative, you
will slap the object of your inspection upon the rump, and
will say, if it is an English horse,  Get over, and if it is
a French one  Allons, a form of address which meets any
known horse-emergency in all parts of the continent. You
must do this, however, confidently, or the beast will see
through you, and will perhaps either decline to answer
your appeal or respond to it with a gentle kick. Both
sides of the horse having now been exposed to view as far
as they can be seen for the boards of the stall, you will
next request that the animal may be turned round and
brought out, and you will wait patiently while the inevit-
able combing and wiping process, which no groom will ever
dispense with, is gone through. As soon as the horse has
been turned and brought to the stable door, and before it
has crossed the threshold, you will call out  stop, and
you will then advance with a swift and confident air, and
stare straight into the animal's eyes, which you will alter-
nately shade and expose to the fight with your hand, to
test the contractile power of the pupil. You will also tear
open the poor beast's mouth in a savage manner, and peer
into its teeth very rigidly ; after which, if you understand
the teeth-test in the matter of age, you will probably be
able to prove that your victim is at least a year older than
has been asserted, while if you know nothing about it, you
had- better confine yourself to wiping the animal's saliva off
your fingers with its mane, with a sardonic grin upon your
features, to imply that you have found out a great deal by
the process you have just gone through, but that you don't
choose to say what.
You will now direct that the quadruped which you are
criticising thus severely may be taken into the open air,
E 2
52
A CRTJISE UPON WHEELS.
and a groom or the proprietor of the horse, as the case may
be, will remove the animal to a convenient spot, where in
the full daylight you will go over the whole surface of its
body and limbs, from the tip of its nose to the point of its
tail, and from the extremities of its fore legs to the corre-
sponding extremities of its hinder ones, especially taking
care to pinch the unfortunate brute's loins to test their
flexibility, to feel all down its legs in order to ascertain
whether the tendons are well separated from the bones,
whether there are any little lumps under the skin, or any-
thing in short at which you can carp or object. You will
of course make the hoofs an especial subject of scrutiny,
lifting, or causing to be lifted, each one in turn, for your
inspection. This over, as you raise your body from
examining the last hoof you will heave a sigh, and again
wiping your fingers on the animal's body, will utter the
monosyllables, hum and ha, two or three times. You may
even permit yourself, if the horse you are looking at is to
your taste, and you are in danger of becoming excited, to
counterfeit a slight yawn, or you may, if you prefer it, hiss
a tune through your clenched teeth.
You will continue this exercise while the next process,
that of trotting the horse up and down, is gone through,
and you will stand with your hands supporting the small
of your back, and your legs as far apart—you will wear
very tight trousers that day—as you conveniently can.
Any awkwardness in turning on the part of your victim,
any twistings out or in of the legs in trotting, any failing
of the limb as the weight rests upon it, you will eagerly
watch and catch at, not saying anything, but simply altering
the measure which you are whistling, or increasing its
violence of delivery as any such failing becomes apparent.
You will also stop the horse suddenly as Jie passes you,
and then hold your hand to his side, examine his nostrils,
and in other ways test his wind, and finally, and after he
has been trotted almost out of his life, you will request that
he may be brought back to his stable, and that some oats
CAVEAT EMPTOR.
53
may be administered to him then and there. While he is
eating these you will stand with your hands behind you,
and with your eyes steadily fixed upon his flank, a position
which you will not resign for at least five minutes, at the
expiration of which time, and when you have made the
unhappy beast cough by grasping its throat to see how it
recovers itself, the examination may be considered over.
All these ceremonies, with the exception of anything
that might seem the least disparaging, did M. Morve go
through, while Mr. Fudge and Bijou's owner looked on in
silence. At the conclusion of the last test, M. Morve
turned to M. Grisois, and in a calm tone, and as if he was
conveying a piece of information of which the other had no
idea, uttered these remarkable words:— Not a bad mare.
After which he intimated to Mr. Fudge that the examina-
tion was over, and that whenever he thought proper to
leave, he (Morve) was ready to go.
As soon as Mr. Fudge and his learned companion were
clear of the stable and its environs, the conversation natu-
rally turned on what they had just been doing, and Mr. Fudge
lost no time in inquiring how far the recent examination
had been satisfactory to M. Morve's professional eye.
It had happened, of course, that when Mr. Fudge called
in the assistance of his veterinary acquaintance, he informed
him, in general terms, of the nature of the service which
would be required of Bijou, in the event of his ultimately
purchasing her, and had mentioned that he was travelling
without a servant, that it might often happen that he would
be obliged to harness or unharness his horse himself, to
give it food, and so on, with his own hands, and that, there-
fore, in addition to the great requisite of strength for the
carrying out of the journey, a very quiet nature was indis-
pensably necessary as a leading characteristic of the animal
which he ivas in search of. Now directly that M. Morve
ivas appealed to for his opinion on Bijou's qualities, he took
the line of ignoring all that Mr. Fudge had told him, and
enunciated his A'iews on the characteristics of the mare,
54
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
just as if he was not aware that every quality he attributed
to her was just what Mr. Fudge would wish the animal to
possess.
"For a fast animal to trot rapidly about a town, said
M. Morve,  I would not recommend this mare. But if a
gentleman wanted a horse for a journey now, a horse to do
a certain amount, say thirty miles a day, quietly and at a
sober pace; if the gentleman were travelling without a
servant and wanted a horse that at a pinch he might
harness and unharness himself, or even administer a feed
of corn to under an emergency; if he wanted an animal
whose qualities were rather enduring than brilliant, if,
above all, he wanted a beast possessed of an excellent
temper 
 But all these things, Mr. Fudge interrupted,  I have
just told you are what I am in search of.
 Then, said M. Morve, laying his hand gently on Mt.
Fudge's arm,  take my advice and secure her without loss
of time. You will not be giving too much if you pay eight
hundred, or eight hundred and fifty francs for her, and will
easily sell her in Paris or any other large town for a
thousand.
Well, surely this was an encouraging view of affairs, and
surely such an opinion as this was cheaply purchased at
the three francs which Mr. Fudge paid for it. So, at all
events, Mr. Pinchbold thought when he heard the result of
the recent examination of Bijou. Mr. Fudge, however,
was not quite so well satisfied.
 Now, hear the rest, he said, after having told Mr.
Pinchbold all that has been related above—a narration
which Mr. P. had laid aside the  letters on business with
amazing alacrity to listen to.  Now, hear the rest; as
soon as I had parted from this M. Morve, I went round to
look at a carriole which I had heard was to be seen in the
Eue Poissonniere, and which I think, by the bye, if we can
get it at a reasonable price, will do—well, as I was return-
ing, I had to pass the end of the street in which Bijou's
MISGIVINGS.
55
stable is situated, and there I saw otir veterinary friend
walking directly towards the abode of M. Grisois. He
saw me, though he pretended not, so it was no use
watching him, but I have no doubt whatever in my own
mind that he was going to extort some money from Grisois
for his good offices in recommending me to purchase his
horse. Good heavens ! cried Mr. Fudge, in despair,  is
there any limit to the roguery and mystification in which
everything connected with horses seems to be involved ? I
begin to believe that this Morve, and old Porquet, and half
the other inhabitants of Malaise, are all interested in the
sale of this animal, and that they all have five franc shares
in her, which they are in a hurry to realize.
Mr. Pinchbold looked a little grave at hearing of the
supposed duplicity of M. Morve, and a serious conversation
followed as to what they had better do. It ended in their
coming to the conclusion that even if what they supposed
was true, that, in any other direction to which they might
turn, they would find just as much roguery as in this, and
perhaps more, and that they must either give the thing up
altogether or run some risk of being deceived.
And so at last it ended in Mr. Fudge's making an offer
of eight hundred francs for the mare, upon which M. Grisois
swore that he would never take less than nine, consenting,
however, after a proper amount of delay and haggling, to
accept eight hundred and fifty, at which price finally the
bargain was concluded, not without many asseverations on
M. Grisois' part that he was being ruined, and many mis-
givings on the part of Mr. Fudge that a similar destiny was
store for him. As for Mr. Pinchbold, he consoled him-
self for his share in the lavish expenditure by remarking
that he must  stick to it in Westminster Hall for this.
And now that the mare was actually purchased and
lodged in the stables of M. Dessin's Hotel—an achievement
which was not accomplished till the eight hundred and fifty
francs had been deposited in M. Grisois' hands—now that
the horse was secured, there was still the carriage to be
56
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
bought, before that start for which the two friends were now
beginning to long so earnestly could possibly be effected.
The harness, it may be mentioned, had been purchased
from Bijou's former owner, as it seemed a desirable thing
to get a set to which the animal was accustomed.
It will be remembered that Mr. Pinchbold had made, at
first sight of M. Grisois' carriole, a very pertinent objection
to a two-wheeled vehicle, as likely to prove an uncomfort-
able conveyance for a long journey. The excursion which
the two friends had made, on the occasion of Bijou's trial,
had fully corroborated Mr. Pinchbold's view of the case,
and both gentlemen had come to the conclusion that a four-
wheeled carriage was absolutely indispensable to the
comfort, and even it might be to the safety of their journey.
New difficulties were created by this decision, a four-
wheeled carriole being, though an exceedingly convenient,
a very rare kind of carriage to find, and it was not till the
very day of Bijou's purchase that Mr. Fudge, as we have
seen above, was able to light upon the object of his and
his companion's search. And now that it was found, they
seemed hardly nearer the mark, so exorbitant was the sum
demanded by the person to whom it belonged. This
carriole, a sketch of which will be found on the title-page,
and which need not, therefore, be described, was the
property of a certain old lady who was a letter out of
carriages, and who had a son who was never to be seen,
and who had to be consulted. The old lady was, or pre-
tended to be, very deaf, and between her deafness and her
son's absence, the mistakes and misunderstandings that
arose were quite incredible, and ended in one which proved
rather expensive to our two adventurous Englishmen. On
the day when Mr. Fudge made his final offer—Madame
Bruletout being incredibly deaf and her son incredibly far
off—on the day when Mr. Fudge made his final offer of
five hundred francs for the carriole, it was instantly accepted
by this worthy lady, and there being no time for delays,
and some repairs being required in the inside of the vehicle,
A BAD BARGAIN.
57
it was arranged that the coachmaker should send for it at
once, and commence operations the same day. What was
Mr. Fudge's surprise, and that of his friend Mr. Pinchbold,
when on the day of payment, Monsieur Bruletout, the son,
who had turned up, together with the sense of hearing on
the part of his mother, for the occasion, what was the
surprise, let us repeat, of the two friends, when this gentle-
man sat down to the table and commenced very quietly
writing out a receipt for six hundred instead of five
hundred francs. There never was such an utter  do and
take-in. The carriole had been taken away, its whole
interior lining had been removed, and its inside pulled to
pieces; if Mr. Fudge and his friend refused to take it, they
would have all this to set right, and the repairs to pay for
for nothing. Besides this, the day was fixed for their
departure; the lodgings given up; and as the season had
now advanced so far that it would be impossible for them
to start before the 1st of September, it was impossible to
think of longer delays. So, after all sorts of rowing and
storming, of disputing and denying on the part of every-
body, it ended in our unhappy friends being obliged to pay
the six hundred francs; immediately upon which Madame
Bruletout and her son became extremely amiable. The
lady lamenting that her infirmity of deafness had led her to
think that Mr. Fudge had said six hundred francs when he
had really said five, and M. Bruletout affirming that $ie
firm were still losers by the transaction, that he had that
day been offered seven hundred francs for the carriole if it
was still to be had, but that he bore the English gentlemen
no malice, and hoped they would enjoy their journey.
 We shall get wiser as we go on, my dear Pinchbold,
said Mr. Fudge, as they began to cool down, after this
exciting interview, <£ and with this treacherous nation to
deal with, shall get into habits of having everything down
in black and white, and of having a witness at hand when-
ever we are going to make a bargain.
And now the two travellers were—certainly at some
58
A CEUISE UPON WHEELS.
expense—in possession of all the necessary material i'or
their start, "with the world before them where to choose.
Of course matters had not advanced thus far, without
many and long- consultations as to what was to be the
termination of the voyage which they had been at such
pains to organize. The conclusion finally arrived at was
one which they hardly dared to talk of, even to each other,
so ambitious did it appear.
It will be remembered that when Mr. Pinchbold first
cast himself upon the map of France, he fixed upon two
places as having a tremendous attraction in their names,
and that these two places were named respectively Ancy-le-
Franc and Tonnerre. Now it happened, curiously enough,
that the route which was finally selected by the two friends
seemed likely enough to carry them through both these
places; though it had of course not been chosen with that
view.
The end of their journey was to be Geneva.
Was ever such audacity heard of? Separated by
hundreds of miles of a country of which they knew nothing,
with the mighty barrier of the Jura mountains at its termi-
nation, these two gentlemen of England actually set before
themselves nothing less than the attempt to reach the
capital of Switzerland, depending upon the aid of one
solitary horse for their means of progression. It was a
great undertaking. How far it was possible to achieve it the
sequel will show.
It is quite certain that all persons who have had much
to do with travelling, will know how difficult it is actually
to get off at last. The mass of things which have to be
done at the last moment, which only can be done at that
last moment. The delays which occur in connexion with
everything and everybody on whom, or on which, the
start depends; the indispensable matters which are not
brought home till literally  the last moment; all these
inevitable causes of being behindhand are known to every-
THE GREAT PROJECT.
59
body who has travelled even by the ordinary means of
steamboats and railway trains ; but of course they were all
in tenfold greater operation in a case like the present, when
the journey, and all that was connected with it, was of an
eccentric kind, and wholly opposed to that system of routine
to which the French nation is wedded more firmly than
any other upon earth.
There is a wonderful and delicious sensation of bivouac
about the night before a long journey. It was especially a
great time for Mr. Fudge, who stood with his legs very
wide apart—the effect, probably, of his recent horse trans-
actions—and with a note-book in his hand, checked
off all the things that had been purchased from the list,
and continually discovering that more things were wanted,
would rush out to buy them, and finding the shop shut up,
would be compelled to put off once more those indispensable
purchases till that last of u last moments, the morning of
the start. There never was such a list as that which Mr.
Fudge had drawn out. One would have thought, to look
at it, that the voyage on which the two friends were about
to enter, was one that would not only take them away
from all the haunts of civilization, but even from the possi-
bility of obtaining the common necessaries of life. A
chafing-dish to hold fire for purposes of cooking; a huge
piece of undressed bacon; a quantity of hard biscuit; a
cheese; a clasp-knife; a mariner's compass; a mass of
cordage, and quantities of leather straps ; these, and such
things as these, were conspicuous parts of the catalogue of
necessaries which Mr. Fudge . had drawn out; a category
which included also a large flask of brandy, a complete tea
equipage—of which more hereafter—of Mr. Fudge's own
arrangement; a bottle of sal volatile, and some dinner-pills
for Mr. Pinchbold, who seemed determined, even if in the
course of their voyage they were likely to be without a
dinner, not at any rate to be without a dinner-pill. Perhaps,
too, he provided himself with these delicacies from a feeling
of doubt as to the wholesomeness of the cooking which was
60
A CRUTSE UPON WHEELS.
likely to take place under Mr. Fudge's superintendence.
At all events, there the things were, in company with all
the other matters before specified, and many more too
numerous to mention.
Mr. Fudge then passed an evening of great happiness,
surrounded by all these preparations for the morrow's start;
while Mr. Pinchbold, who was always very sanguine about
the journey in the morning, while in the evening he
invariably predicted that it would end fatally to both him-
self and friend; Mr. Pinchbold, we say, was in a condition
of extreme depression, which all the good spirits of his
friend were insufficient to dispel.
Even on the very morning—when at last it came—
which was appointed for the great event of the start, there
was so much to be done that it seemed quite impossible they
could really get off. Besides all the packing up that had
to be accomplished, there was the portmanteau full of warm
things which Mr. Pinchbold had written over to England
for, and which did not arrive. This rendered necessary an
expedition down to the port when the steamer came in, and
as the valise did not arrive by that boat, it was needful to
wait till the next came. The next came, and there was
still no portmanteau, and our friends had then to find the
foreign agents of the London Company who had charge of
its transmission, and to explain to them what had happened,
which of itself took about two hours, and to leave them an
address at Paris to which the package should be sent if it
ever arrived. Then there was the inventory to go through
at the lodgings, and every crack in every piece of china
being attributed by the mistress of the house to her two
lodgers (even if the crack was black with age), there was a
great deal of time lost in argument, and a great deal of
money lost, too, before affairs were settled. Then it got so
late that a  snack was necessary before starting; then a
settlement was necessary with Agnes, who shed tears at
the parting, and who brought her child to show to the
gentlemen, and if the gentlemen wanted to see before start-
OFF AT LAST.
61
ing the wettest-nosed and the ugliest child in France, there
it was. However, they had no time to notice these things,
or indeed for anything else, but to hurry out of the house
as quickly as possible, and get across the road to the stables
where Bijou and the carriole were awaiting their arrival.
 Vous allez etre bien mconfortable, said M. Dessin, the
landlord of the hotel, coming up to Mr. Fudge as he was
superintending the harnessing of Bijou in the stable.  Why
do you go, he continued,  by St. Omer instead of by
Boulogne and Abbeville ?
Mr. Fudge modestly intimated that his friend and he
had selected the former route in preference to the latter,
because they wished to pass through a country with which
they were unacquainted in preference to one which they
knew.
 There is not a decent inn on the road, said M.
Dessin;  oh, vous allez etre bien inconfortable. Where
is Monsieur Pincebout, he continued (for that was his
refreshing view of that gentleman's name); "where is
Monsieur Pincebout, that I may tell him too ? he added,
as if he had some very good news to communicate.
And so at last, with this warning ringing in their ears,
the moment actually came when the two friends climbed to
their places in the front seat of the carriole (the luggage
being safely stowed at the back). Mr. Fudge gave the
signal to proceed with a shake of the rein, the mare took
her first step on the road to Geneva, the wheels turned
round, the carriole gave a jolt forward, and so at half-past
three, on the afternoon of Saturday, September the first, one
thousand eight hundred and sixty—the journey was begun.
62
CHAPTER Y.
treating op the pleasant evening drive which brought our
travellers to the town op st. omer, and op all that
happened on the journey.
Most things in this world that we set great store by and
long for very much, are so long in reaching us, or rather,
we are so long commonly in attaining them, that we
can hardly realize them when possession arrives at last.
It was so with our two travellers. They could scarcely
believe that they were really off. "Was it possible that
they were passing along that main street of Malaise for the
last time—at any rate, for the last time for many months,
perhaps years, to come ? Yes, it was really so; there was
the shop where the milliner's apprentice always laughed
whenever the two Englishmen passed, a circumstance
which Mr. Pinchbold always seemed to consider highly
gratifying, though why, it would be hard to say. There
was the pork-butcher's, where the bacon in the basket
behind was purchased; there the ironmonger's, where the
chafing-dish, by means of which, if ever it was dressed, it
was to be cooked. There, too, was the late owner of
Bijou standing near the gate of the town, and informing
them, when they stopped to speak to him, that he had
purchased the black horse which they had seen at M.
Garrot's, and which has figured in these pages under the
name of the Demon-horse; that the animal, instead of
advancing when placed in the shafts, made it a practice to
stand upon its hind legs and paw the air with its front
limbs; that he expected to be killed by this animal at no
CLEAB. OF MALAISE.
63
distent period, and that he wished he had never parted
with his beloved Bijon, whose nose he affectionately kissed.
Clear of the town, clear of the gate, clear of the draw-
bridge, and entering the Faubourg of St. Jacques, which
lay for a mile or two outside the fortifications, they were
fairly off at last, though somewhat later than they ought to
have been; but still as the town of St. Omer, at which they
were to pass the night, was at a distance of about eighteen
English miles, they calculated on reaching it easily before
dusk. But their delays were not over yet. Mr. Fudge
had had the misfortune to lose a certain gold pin to which,
as it was a gift, he attached some value, and as he had
heard that this pin had been picked up by a workman
residing at St. Jacques, and by him had been taken to the
Commissaire de Police, it was necessary to drive round by
the Mairie to try and get it back. The Commissaire was
not at the Mairie, neither was he at his own house, to which
our travellers drove next, and no one at either place had
heard anything of the pin, so Mr. Fudge was obliged to
write an exact description—with a drawing—of the missing
trinket, and to leave it, accompanied with an address at
Paris to which he wished the pin to be forwarded. All
this, combined with all the fuss which of course was com-
bined with it, took a great deal of time, and made the two
friends rather late upon the road. It was a beautiful after-
noon, however, followed by a beautiful evening, and there
was still plenty of time.
The road for the first few miles did not present much
food for the intense amount of observation which Mr.
Pinchbold bestowed upon it. It was quite wonderful to see
the resolute way in which this gentleman set himself to the
work of profiting by his journey. The way in which he
u took it out of the landscape was really something mar-
vellous. There was not a field, nor a hedge, nor a little
wayside watercourse that he did not scrutinize in the
fiercest manner, leaning his body half out of the carriole to
do so.
64
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
As for Mr. Fudge, that gentleman's attention was so
completely absorbed by the animal he was engaged in
driving that he had eyes for nothing else. It is little
known, except by old practical hands, what an extraordinary
sympathy, what an almost magnetic rapport, exists between
a horse and its driver. For the first day or two, till the
animal has got to know who is driving it, and got accus-
tomed to that touch of the hand upon the rein which is
different in every driver, things seldom go on quite com-
fortably. There is a tendency in all animals, in dogs as
well as horses, to test the strength of their proprietor, to
gauge him, and take his measure completely, to see how
far he may be trifled with, intimidated, or set at nought;
and in proportion to the conviction which is the result of
this test, is the respect and affection of the animal for its
master. An animal may get to love a tyrant, but never a
person who fears or toadies it.
Now Mr. Fudge was engaged all this time in practically
experiencing the truth of this theory which we have
ventured to put forward. Even Bijou, who was in reality,
as her owner had boasted, a beast possessed of a most perfect
temper, even she had discovered that a new hand was on
the rein, and was trying what sort of a master she had got,
and whether her one vice of laziness was likely to be
indulged or resisted by her new proprietor. The manner
in which this was developed in her goings-on was rather
amusing, and, at the same time, somewhat provoking. She
was continually wanting to relax her pace, and exchange
the jog-trot, at which Mr. Fudge thought it desirable to
keep her, for a walk. Every variation in the road, how-
ever slight, was made an excuse for these attempts. A
bridge over a mere ditch, or an acclivity of half-a-dozen
yards, would be quite enough to produce a relaxation of
pace; so would the passing of any other vehicle which they
happened to meet, or even the encounter of a cow, or half-
a-dozen sheep. At every auberge, too, that they passed,
the mare regularly made an attempt to diverge from the
BIJOU.
65
straight course, in order to pull up before it—a practice
suggestive of convivial habits on the part of her former
proprietor—while at every place where two roads met, or
so much as a lane diverged from the main thoroughfare, a
burning desire appeared to consume this remarkable animal
for exploring the new route, possibly in a vague hope that
a stable might turn up at the end of it.
Although the acquisition of Bijou was the first horse-
transaction in which Mr. Fudge had been engaged, that
gentleman knew quite enough of horses to be perfectly
aware that it never does to give in to an animal; and that
by means of the two great qualities of patience and per-
severance it would be easy enough to become the master of
such a horse as Bijou in a very short time.
 What is the matter with her ? asked Mr. Pinchbold ;
his attention being at last caught by an exclamation of irri-
tability on the part of his companion.
 She's only trying her strength, replied Mr. Fudge.
 I hope not, ejaculated Mr. Pinchbold;  for she seems
to me to have a great deal of it.
 She is trying to find out, continued Mr. Fudge,
 whether her future career in our hands is to be one of
obedience on her part, or of thraldom on ours.
"And which, inquired Mr. Pinchbold, hesitatingly,
 which do you think is the safest ?
 I don't know which may be the safest, replied Mr.
Fudge,  but I know this much as a general rule, that
whenever the legitimate and rightful superior gives in to the
inferior, there is an end of all happiness to either party.
 Well then, remarked Mr. Pinchbold,  I suppose that
we had better give in, for certainly she is the superior in
point of strength.
 I think we can tackle her, said Mr. Fudge, laughing
at the ingenious way in which his companion had distorted
his theory; and, indeed, by the steadiness of hand, the
regular undeviating consistency of his determination, and,
at the same time, the good temper with which Mr. Fudge
F
66
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
adhered to his purpose, there did not seem to be much
doubt that, in a very short time, Bijou would recognise her
master, and that she would not be long in finding out that
resistance was of no use.
The attention of our two travellers was now caught by a
sufficiently curious freak, not of nature but of art, which
the part of the road they had arrived at disclosed to their
view. It was a place where four perfectly straight canals
met, while at the point of their junction was a high bridge
over which the road passed, so that the two roads—that by
which they had come and that by which they were to go
on—and the four canals all seemed to diverge from one
point, which was like the centre of a star, or as Mr. Pinch-
bold remarked,  like that flag which is dear to the heart of
every Englishman—the Union Jack.
It may be here remarked that Mr. Pinchbold's nationality
always grew to a great height upon a foreign soil, and that he
always seemed to consider himself, when he had crossed the
Channel, in the light rather of a hardly-used exile than one
journeying of his own freewill and for pleasure.
The two friends paused long enough on the top of the
bridge to observe the phenomenon of the Union Jack,
which was really very curious, and not, in a certain way,
unpicturesque ; and having done it perfect justice, betook
themselves once more to their journey. The road lay
straight for some miles till it brought them within sight of
the little town of Ardres, which lies perched up on a small
hill, looking like a city in the background of an old picture,
and with a great, swampy, dismal-looking lake spread out
before it at the foot of the hill. The road to St. Omer did
not lie through the town, but turned off sharply to the left,
and from this point became extremely pretty, bordered on
either side by cultivated fields, varied with little patches of
wood, the foliage of which had just attained that rich colour
which, like the culminating point of all perfection, preceded
decay. The next stage was autumn.
It was a glorious evening; and a golden tinge from the
SYMPTOMS OF UNEASINESS.
67
sun, which was now nearing the horizon, was spread Over
the whole country as it lay before our two travellers.
Never was happiness more complete than theirs. There
come times like this when all things suddenly seem to
accord together to make a man, in the fullest sense of the
word, happy. His humours are all at rest; there is some
happy concord between mind and body, between the scene
without and the sensations within, haply a thing ■which
degrees of temperature, and even of light, may effect;
certainly a condition to which congenial companionship is
indispensable. Alas! there are those who hold that such
moments as these are (like the culminating point of beauty
attained, as we have just said, by autumn foliage,) not of
long duration, and are too often the harbingers of dis-
comfort.
Without troubling themselves to philosophize on such
•questions as these, our two friends were contented simply
.and wisely to seize the joy of the hour as it came, and to
make the most of it, without troubling themselves about
the future. Mr. Pinchbold lay back in his seat luxuriously
and divided his time between a lazy watching of Bijou's
white ears and an occasional glance at the scene through
which they were passing: while even Mr. Fudge indulged
himself by assuming as easy a position as the cares of
driving rendered possible. Neither gentleman seemed to
care to speak, and beyond a passing exclamation of  How
beautiful it is! or,  Isn't this a delightful way of travel-
ling? they were perfectly silent.
They had been jogging along in this way for about an
hour after losing sight of Ardres, and Bijou, probably
convinced by reflection that the stable she was going to in
front was now nearer than the stable she was coming away
from behind, was getting along at a pleasanter and more
even pace. They had been jogging along thus, we repeat,
for about an hour, when gradually there developed itself a
slight alteration in the appearance and conduct of our two
travellers. It was, as has been said, the slightest thing in
f 2
68
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
the world—a little change of posture, the new one having
a trifle less of abandonment and repose about it than the
old. A disposition on the part of Mr. Fudge to bestow all
that attention which had before wandered to the country
around, exclusively on Bijou's ears, and a tendency in Mr.
Pinchbold to do the like, these things would have been
observable, if there had been anybody by to observe them;
but these things were not much. It was not much, either,
that Mr. Pinchbold would occasionally steal a furtive glance
at Mr. Fudge, to see what he was looking at, and that Mr.
Fudge would steal a furtive glance now and then at Mr.
Pinchbold, to see what he was looking at, and that each
gentleman would turn hastily away and hum a tune when
thus discovered. Neither was it much that both Mr.
Fudge and Mr. Pinchbold were characterized by a slight
depression of the corners of their mouths, and by a more
eager stare than existed in their normal condition. These
things were not much; but, much or little, there these
things were.
At last Mr. Fudge seemed to have got the length of
addressing his companion, and had even uttered, hesi-
tatingly, a premonitory "er; but he stopped, and changed
it into a cough, while Mr. Pinchbold exactly at the same
moment also began to speak, and also changed his remark
into a clearance of throat, which sounded like the subterfuge
it was.
"You were going to speak? "What were you going
to say ? Avere the tAvo questions which emerged simulta-
neously from the mouths of Messrs. Fudge and Pinchbold.
"Nothing; "Nothing; was each gentleman's answer.
 No ; but what tvere you going to say ? inquired Mr.
Pinchbold, eagerly, though not looking at his companion,
but still at Bijou's ears.
 Oh, nothing of any consequence, replied Mr. Fudge.
"You were about to—
 Fudge! ejaculated Mr. Pinchbold, solemnly; « you are
concealing some horrible thing from me. What is it ?
bijou's ears.
69
 Oh, nothing, replied Mr. Fudge once more, in a
careless manner.  I only thought that you seemed to be
staring very intently at Bijou's ears, and I was going to
ask you the reason—that's all.
 What an extraordinary circumstance, said Mr.
Pinchbold;  the very thing which I had remarked about
you, and which I was going to ask an explanation of.
 How very curious, remarked Mr. Fudge.  But tell
me why were you watching her movements so closely ?
"Well, why were you, if you come to that? retorted
the other.
 It's 110 use going on like this, Mr. Fudge answered,
desperately.  The fact is, that I fancied—but I see now
it was only fancy—that I detected at times—
 Detected what ? asked Mr. Pinchbold, eagerly, seeing
that his friend hesitated.
 Oh, nothing—ridiculous—not worth speaking of—I
see now that it was outrageous.
 Well, but, replied Mr. Pinchbold,  I also, if the
truth must be told, fancied that I detected something, which
I, also, now see to be outrageous.
"In the name of goodness, then, what was it? demanded
Mr Fudge, breathlessly.
 Well, if you will have it, said Mr. Pinchbold, with a
feeble attempt at a laugh,  I fancied for one moment that I
observed in the carriage of Bijou's left ear something faintly
and distantly approaching an occasional—an occasional—
 Not a limp ? ejaculated Mr. Fudge, faintly.
Mr. Pinchbold turned round, and looking piteously at
his friend, nodded a rueful assent.
It was a dreadful moment. The mere fact of such a
suspicion as this, which Mr. Pinchbold had owned to having
entered that gentleman's mind for a moment, would have
been bad enough, even if that had been all. But that
was not all. The dreadful apprehension had been shared
by Mr. Fudge; and he, too, was obliged to own that long
before Mr. Pinchbold had spoken, his mind was tormented
70
A CRUISE UPON WH3EELS.
"with the same horrible thought bj which his friend had
been assailed. The most wonderful part of the whole
business, however, was, that neither Mr. Fudge nor Mr..
Pinchbold were in a position to pronounce definitely
whether there was, after all, any foundation for their sus-
picions. The lameness which each of them had fancied he
could detect was so slight—if, indeed, it existed at all was-
so intermittent, was so completely a thing that one might
be mistaken about, that it really seemed impossible to speak
about it with any degree of certainty. Nay, so completely
would the fancied limp disappear at times, that the two-
friends would get to be quite jocose about it, and to wonder
how it had ever happened that such a nonsensical thing
had ever entered their heads. And so they would go on,
alternately fancying they could detect something approxi-
mating to a limp, and then feeling sure that it was only
fancy, till by the time that the dusk of the evening had
set in, they had got themselves into a complete state of
mystification on the subject; the impression winch had
attained the ascendancy, however, being most decidedly
that they had been victims of a delusion, and that the mare
was no more lame than either of the two gentlemen who
sat in the carriole behind her.
It was quite dark—so much so, that Mr. Fudge was
obliged to get out and light the lamps—before the road
gave any indications of proximity to a town. Mr. Fudge
was beginning to doubt whether they had not been misin-
formed about the distance, and Mr. Pinchbold was beginning'
to be convinced that they had mistaken the way, when a
change in the nature of the road on which they were
travelling, from macadamization to pavement, and the
sudden springing up of a row of trees on each side of the
thoroughfare, convinced them that at length they were
nearing a town.
And now, once more, the excitement and interest of a
journey such as that in which the two Englishmen were
engaged. Surely there was a great charm about the mere
NEAKING A TOWN.
71
fact of arriving thus at a totally strange place, not knowing
what it was like, what sort of an inn they were going to
put up at, what kind of cuisine, what development of bed
awaited them. To Mr. Fudge, especially, all this was sin-
gular-ly delightful and strangely congenial to his nature;
and Mr. Pinchbold in his way enjoyed it too, not a little,
though he doubtless would have enjoyed it more but for a
settled conviction which had possession of his mind, that
both he and his friend would infallibly be found, when the
morning dawned, with their throats cut from ear to ear.
For Mr. Pinchbold had taken his notions of the smaller
inns in France from the auberges he had seen set up upon
the stage, and from the descriptions of cut-throat cabarets
which he had met with in romances.
The long, straight thoroughfare, with the trees on either
side of it, and paved with stones each about the size of a
quartern loaf, on which our Englishmen had now entered,
seemed quite interminable. It was so dark, too, owing to
the trees, that when a vehicle approached them it was
almost impossible to see it, and the chief safety of the tra-
vellers consisted in the light which they carried with them,
and in which Bijou's white hide blazed conspicuously
enough. The curious part of it all was, that strain their
eyes forward as much as they might, they saw no lights in
front of them to give evidence of the near neighbourhood
of a town, and but for the pavement and the carts which
they met now and then, they might have thought them-
selves very far from any human habitation; and it was
not till they were actually at the very gates of the town
that they had any idea how near they were to their resting-
place for the night. The apparition of a man with a lantern
in his hand springing out of some concealed place at the
side of the road, and arresting the course of the carriole to
demand if they had anything to declare, was the first inti-
mation they received of their having reached the gates of
the town; an intimation, by the bye, which alarmed Mr.
Pinchbold—who of course took the Douanier for a robber
72.
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
—to such an extent that he quite gave himself up for
lost.
Mr. Fudge having answered in the negative, the two
friends were allowed to pass on, and were accorded free
access to the town of St. Omer. It was rather difficult
pilotage, the entrance to the fortifications being across the
narrowest and rumblingest drawbridge that ever was seen,
and through a long winding tunnel which was about the
size of a London sewer, and so tight a fit that Mr. Fudge
had at one time doubts as to whether they would not have
to leave the carriole for the night outside the city gates.
u Heavens ! what a place, was Mr. Pinchbold's excla-
mation as, the passage of the tunnel safely achieved, the
travellers found themselves as far as they could see in a
sort of little narrow lane, forming a tolerably steep ascent,
and with scarcely a glimmer of light to make their way
plain before them. There was hardly any one to be seen,
and the houses and shops, if there were any, were as much
shut up as if it had been midnight, instead of eight o'clock
in the evening. Between the ascent and the darkness it
was impossible to go at more than a foot pace, so that it
was quite a long time before at last the carriole turned out
of the long narrow thoroughfare, which Mr. Pinchbold had
pleasantly predicted would turn out to be the town of St.
Omer, and emerged into a great, bare, dismal-looking
Place, with a great, bare, dismal-looking Town Hall in the
middle of it, and two or three gaunt cafes showing just
light enough to make their full measure of dolefulness con-
spicuous.
Stopping at one of these, from which one of the inha-
bitants of St. Omer was just emerging, Mr. Fudge inquired
his way to the Hotel de la Porte d'Or, for he had taken the
precaution before leaving Malaise of ascertaining where they
would have the best chance of tolerable entertainment.
 You will not find tolerable entertainment anywhere
between this and Amiens, M. Dessin had said when Mr.
Fudge had questioned him on the-subject;  but since you
LA PORTE D'OR.
73
are determined to go to St. Omer, you had better put up
at the Porte d'Or.
 You will go across the Place, and after that up a little
street, and then you will arrive at a smaller Place, and you
will go across that also; after which you will see two streets,
and you will take the one to the left, and that will take
you straight to the hotel.
This was the direction given by the worthy inhabitant
whom Mr. Fudge had accosted ; and following it implicitly,
and not making more than two serious mistakes by the
way, our travellers found themselves at last opposite the
gates of a great barren house, on which they could just
make out the words, Hotel de la Porte d'Or. Mr. Fudge
turned the mare's head into the gates, and in another
moment they were in the inn-yard.
Hardly ever—never, one may almost say—does one seem
to be expected at a French inn of the smaller class. There
is nothing ready for you, and the ostler especially is a
person who is never forthcoming. "When our two travellers
drove into the inn-yard at St. Omer, a great hobbling
wench, who tumbled along as if she had corns, who was
nearly six feet high, and every feature of whose great flat
face betokened the most radiant good-nature, came out with
a flaring candle, not even placed in a flat candlestick, held
in her hand. The ostler was away, she said; but he should
be fetched: wouldn't the two gentlemen walk in ? The
two gentlemen declining this invitation on account of their
unwillingness to abandon Bijou to her fate, the good-
natured wench seemed unable to suggest anything else, and
stood staring at them as if they were beings wholly removed
from anything she had ever seen before. Then the rest of
the establishment would come out of the kitchen and stare
too. There appeared to be about eight old women, who
looked like charwomen, attached to the premises, and they
all came out and stared by turns. A sulky-looking man-
cook iu a white cap just gave a glance at them and retired
again ; and nobody seemed to have the slightest notion of
74
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
assisting them except the good-natured wench, whor
suddenly retiring, re-appeared presently with a paralytic
old man, who, in the absence of the ostler, undertook to
take Bijou out of the carriole and put her up for the night.
Having seen this achievement carried out—the infirmities
of the deputy-ostler requiring all the assistance that was to
be had—the two friends left Bijou eating her oats in a little
stable which she had all to herself, and which would only
just hold her, and found their way into the salle-a-manger, in
search of that most delightful (and indigestible) of all the
meals we sit down to—a supper.
The good-natured wench re-appeared at this meal, and
waited upon them in a condition of astonishment which
bordered on frenzy. Everything they did, every opening
their mouths to eat or speak, seemed to drive her into
deeper and deeper abysses of wonder ; and many were the
knocks and contusions which she inflicted on herself and on
the different vessels which it was her function to carry, from
the difficulty which she evidently found in taking her eyes
off the two strangers.
If travelling had given our Englishmen an appetite which
made the vermicelli soup, the cutlets, and fried potatoes, of
which their meal consisted, to appear the most delightful of
food, it had also given them such a longing to get to bed as
a journey through the open air, followed by a warm meal,
alone will produce. There is, in truth, nothing like a
change to make a man sleep; and what a change this was 1
Here they were, actually off, and a stage on their journey—
the journey talked about at first as almost an. impossibility
—the journey which so many obstacles had come in the
way of—the journey so long delayed; for it was on the
fifteenth of August that it was first projected, and it was now.
the first day of September—this journey was really and truly
begun, and they were sleeping at the first inn on the road.
Certainly Mr. Pinchbold was a difficult gentleman to'
settle in an apartment at night: he must have a door that
would lock to his taste ; he must have any othar doors that
THE FIRST RESTING-PLACE.
75
were in the walls of the room opened that he might see
where they led to, and must then have them locked again
and the key given into his own charge ; he must be assured
that the bell was in good working order, and must be
informed on a variety of other equally important matters
before he could be finally induced to subside for the night.
His room was next to that occupied by Mr. Fudge, and
that gentleman heard him (long after he was himself in
bed) opening cupboards and moving furniture about as if
he would never get to bed at all. The fact is, that Mr.
Pinchbold, before he could retire for the night with any
sense of security, was in the habit of going through a series
of rites which were enough to deter a man from going to
bed at all. He must look under the bed and behind the
curtains, and into every cupboard, or any other receptacle
capable of holding a child six months old. He must try all
the doors once more, and having locked them, must arrange
a barricade besides, which was so artfully designed, with a
tilted chair at the bottom and a washing-basin at the top,
that the slightest attempt to enter must infallibly produce a
crash which was calculated to appal the sturdiest house-
breaker in Europe—a crash, by the bye, which not unfre-
quently took place with no housebreaker at all, the basin
being so artfully balanced that the movement made by Mr.
P. himself in crossing the room would sometimes spread
the whole fabric, so skilfully erected, in complicated ruin on
the floor.
Mr. Fudge, who had been listening dreamily to Mr.
Pinchbold's trampings and bumpings in the next room, was
just dropping off to sleep, when he was aroused by hearing
the door of his companion's room open, and presently a
gentle tap at his own.
 Come in, cried Mr. Fudge, without rising; and
instantly Mr. Pinchbold entered the apartment bearing a
candle in his hand, and with a countenance of ashy palor.
 Good heavens ! Fudge, he said, to begin with ; "can
you sleep with your door like that, so that anybody can
76
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
come in ? And then he went on in a mysterious tone,
 I say, Fudge, I am afraid we must leave this hotel, or
inn, or whatever you call it, at once.
"Leave it! echoed Mr. Fudge.  What do you mean?
 I have just seen something, answered Mr. Pinchbold,
 which convinces me that it is not a safe place to sleep in.
Oh! why did we ever attempt this fearful journey ?
 But what is the matter, my dear fellow ? Mr. Fudge
asked, roused in spite of his knowledge of his friend's weak-
nesses, and leaning up upon his elbow— what the deuce
is the matter ?
 There is a notice pasted up upon my bedroom door
which convinces me that we are either in a house which is
frequented by dangerous characters, or else that the land-
lord—whom, mind you, we have never seen—is one him-
self. Stay, continued Mr. Pinchbold, looking up at Mr.
Fudge's door;  now I look, there is the same thing on
your door.
Mr. Fudge looked in the direction indicated by his friend,
and saw a little card with something printed on it nailed
up on one of the panels.
 What is it ? he inquired.
Mr. Pinchbold held his candle up to the document and
read the following announcement:—
 MM. the travellers who may rest at this inn are re-
quested to give into the hands of the master of the hotel the
funds or other objects of value which they may have about
them, and the security of which they wish to ensure.
 There, said Mr. Pinchbold, when he had done reading,
 what does that indicate ?
 Is that all ? was Mr. Fudge's answer. He was getting
sleepy again.
"All! echoed Mr. Pinchbold; "don't you mean to go?
 No; on no account, said Mr. Fudge;  why should
we?
 Why should they put that up if there was no danger of
thieves ? asked Mr. Pinchbold.
SUNDAY.
77
 Oh, it's only a form, muttered Mr. Fudge, half asleep
already.  Good-night.
 You're never going to sleep with that announcement
over your head ? the wretched Pinchbold expostulated.
 Good-night, Pinchbold, muttered Mr. Fudge.
 Well, at any rate, you'll get up and lock your door ?
"No, thank you.
 Well, a barricade ?
 No, thank you.
 Not so much as a tilted chair ?
But Mr. Fudge gave no answer, for he was fast asleep;
and Mr. Pinchbold was constrained to content himself with
placing an additional water-jug upon the top of his own
barricade; after which he followed his friend's example,
and, in spite of his fears, was soon fast asleep.
The next day was Sunday, and as the two friends had
resolved before starting on their journey that, wherever
they might find themselves on Saturday night, there they
would remain till Monday morning, they had a day of rest
at St. Omer. The reader will not care to hear much
about the characteristics of the town. Let him suppose a
page out of Mr. Murray's admirable guide-book here.
What is furnished there is in every one's hands, and the
present writer has no right or desire to pillage it.
It was a blazing hot afternoon, and our two friends spent
it in wandering round the ramparts of the town, and in
loitering by the black waters of the moat which hems the
city in. It was a happy time. Mr. Pinchbold made some
notes for his journal—for if that gentleman's character has
been sketched here with any approach to truthfulness, the
reader will have felt convinced by this time that he must
have kept a journal—Mr. Pinchbold made some notes, and
Mr. Fudge, reclining on the long grass by the side of the
water, abandoned himself to the full enjoyment of the scene
before him.
To such a nature as that of David Fudge, the kind of
78
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
life on which he and his friend had now entered was sin-
gularly congenial. It has been already hinted at the,
beginning of this authentic narrative, that this gentleman
was of a romantic turn of mind, and had in him strong
leanings towards a life of seclusion and isolation from liis
fellow-men. The fact is, that our friend was subject—as
many liave been before liim—to periodical fits of disgust
■with the world about him; and when one of these seizures
came upon him, he would, if his purse happened at the
time to be full enough, betake himself to the Continent, and
there remain till his appetite for civilization revived or his
affairs called him back again. It was the fault partly of
his profession, partly of his time of life, that these fits came
upon him. We have said of  his time of life. He had
lived just long enough to get thoroughly disgusted with all
the abominations of social life which he saw around him at
home. He had not lived long enough to get reconciled to
the evil for the sake of the good. The time, however, was
not far off when this reaction might be looked for in him;
for our Englishman was no cynic, and even in his hottest
mood of misanthropy (which would never make him wish
ill to any human being), he always felt that he was not
•doing right to indulge it, and that to retire from the rest of
the world and shut oneself up in oneself is a course which,
if it is not really strongly tinctured with pride, at any rate
lays him who adopts it singularly open to that imputation.
What a thing to be there by that great calm pool ot
"water, with those huge masses of wall above him, and the
great elms planted along the ramparts! What a thing to
know no one in the place but honest Mr. Pinchbold, whom,
with all his weaknesses, he knew enough of to respect! What
a thing to be out of earshot of the malignant gossip which
forms so staple a commodity in the ordinary conversation
of London cliques! To have no one flattering him—for
there are flatterers for everybody if they will hear them
no one lying in wait to put him down. Splash !—what a
monstrous carp that must be to come walloping up to the
A DAY'S EEST.
79
top of the water. This is just the kind of place for such
gentry. I can see his great back-fin sticking out of the
water now as he lies basking in the heat at the top. There
is a man fishing yonder, with a long reed for a fishing-rod.
He will never catch that old carp, though. Ide has caught
a roach, but a roach is not a carp. I wonder why the
worthless thing is always easy of attainment, and the desir-
able thing always hard to come at. When this moat was
first dug, and those walls built, how solidly the beggars
went to work; and the cathedral tower, up yonder in the
town—we don't build like that now. Certainly, solidity is
not the characteristic of our day. "Will it do? is our
inquiry— Oh, it will do, is our answer. We don't do
our work enough for itself—enjoying and revelling in the
thing as it goes on. If I ever live to write another book,
I will make a resolution never to think once of what the
publisher will give for it in money, or what the ladies of
my literary clique will give for it in praise.
 Are there two a's, or only one, in agreeable ? asked
Mr. Pinchbold, who was busy with his notes.
And so, the reflections of Mr. Fudge being broken, and
it being also near the hour of the table dhote at the inn,
the two friends got up to go.
The travellers had a long journey before them the next
day. They had determined on striking across at once from
St. Omer to a place called St. Pol, a town the name of
which certainly conveyed the idea of something wild and
outlandish, and the situation of which upon the map, far
away from any railroad, seemed to augur a wonderful
degree of uncivilization. It was at St. Pol that Mr. Pinch-
bold had calmly settled that both he and his friend were to
be finally disposed of, and it was after arriving at that
mysterious little city that he felt convinced all traces of
them would be lost for ever. The distance from St. Omer
to St. Pol was given by some as amounting to twelve, by
others to thirteen leagues ; and supposing the latter report
to be the right one, they would have before them a journey
80
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
of about eight-and-fhirty miles, or, to adopt tbe French
measurement, of fifty-two kilometres, the proportion of
kilometres being about four to three—that is to say, that
three miles would be four kilometres, six miles eight, nine
miles twelve, and so on. It was something of an under-
taking, and Mr. Fudge paid frequent visits to the stable in
the course of the evening to look after the animal on whom
they Avere so utterly dependent. He saw her fed and made
comfortable, and lingered still, after all, to feast his eyes
upon her fair proportions—the mare looking, in truth, as
her Avhite form stood out against the darkness of the stable,
as comely a beast as you would Avisli to see.
Having to be up at five o'clock the next morning, it is
unnecessary to say that the two travellers retired at an
early hour to their respective rooms; and Mr. Pinchbold
having made an entry in his journal, and Mr. Fudge having
balanced the accounts, they were both asleep by the time
that the clock struck ten.
It Avas part of Mr. Pinchbold's system of keeping a diary
to enter, sometimes in a couple of lines, sometimes in as
many pages, a description of the bedchamber in which he
passed the night. Whether this Avas done that, in case of
an attack—and we must remember that he expected to
haAre his life attempted every night—he might be able, if
he survived, to recal all those places behind Avhich hidden
machinery of destruction might lurk, or which might veil a
trap-door or other secret means of access to his chamber,—
whether this Avas the motive of Mr. Pinchbold's course of
action, it is impossible to say ; but it is quite certain that
it Avas so, and that some sort of description of his sleeping
apartment, long or short, was invariably attempted.
As his diary is lying open on the table of his bed-room,
and as all the contrivances and barricades in the world
cannot keep us out, Ave will now take a glance at the docu-
ment in question, and see what Mr. P. says of his bed-
chamber at the Hotel de la Porte d'Or, St. Omer.
 A long strip of a room, Mr. Pinchbold Avrites,  with
ME. PINCHBOLD'S DIARY.
81
two beds against the long side of the apartment; an appalling
notice on the door requesting MM. the travellers to leave
their money, or other valuables, in the hands of the master
of the hotel; who is, by the bye, a bewildered-looking old
man, with hair standing on end, who wanders about the
house, nobody taking any notice of him, and seeming to
have less to do with the government of the hotel than any
one else in the place.
 There is a suspicious-looking stove (which I cannot
open), which looks like a thin China column, and stands in
an alcove. On the walls are four prints after as many bad
pictures by Greuze.
 The first is called ' Filial Affection.' An old sinner,
who richly deserves his fate, is being bored to death by
numerous surrounding relatives. An elderly son approaches
with a saucer full of some horrible garbage, which he is
going to supply with the small end of a teaspoon. This
son has a napkin over his arm. An old woman is mending
a shirt, which the old man obviously will never want
again. A child, in liquor, is staggering forward with a
cup another child is tugging at the old man's pillow ; yet
another is pulling at his leg wrappers; and a fourth is
boring him with a live sparrow, which it holds under his
chin. The unfortunate old man has a beseeching expres-
sion in his countenance, as if entreating to be left alone.
 The second print is called ' Example of Humanity.'
A healthy, middle-aged couple are lying in bed very com-
fortably; a boy is lounging by the side fiddling with a
broom. A fine lady, passionately attitudinizing, directs
her little daughter to give a purse which she, the daughter,
holds in her hand, to the lazy couple. The little girl very
properly resists. A Beguin, or Sister of Charity, scowls in
the middle distance.
 The third print is called 1 The Ungrateful Son.' An
awful (and hale) old scoundrel is cursing a very weak
young man with a violence horrible to behold. The son is
starting off his chair, and flying in texror. A child is
G
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
holding him by the waistcoat-pocket. A woman is trying
to stop the old man ; another is trying to keep the young
one ; a boy between both, undecided who to side with. A
Tery pleasant fellow, in a three-cornered hat, waiting at the
door for the son, ready for a social evening; > incapable of
anything worse.
 The fourth print is without a name; perhaps ' The
Ungrateful Son's Return.' Old man holding forth; son,
nearly as old, comes in with a young girl hanging on his
arm ; old woman shaking hands with her. She has a bad
bargain in the son, who looks by no means a pi easing
specimen of humanity. Various females look on reproach-
fully. An oldish man, impossible to account for, scrutinizes
the newly-arrived ones from a side1 table. They will have'
a dull evening of it.
83
CHAPTER VI.
A LONG DAY'S JOURNEY ; A DINNER IN GOOD COMPANY ; A SUPPER
IN BAD COMPANY; AND OTHER MATTERS WHICH SHALL BE LEFT
FOR THE READER TO DISCOVER.
 I FEEL as if I was going to be bung ! said Mr. Pinchbold,
sitting up in bed, and looking despairingly about him.
There are few persons, except those habitually accus-
tomed to such proceedings, who will not feel very much as
Mr. Pinchbold did when they are called upon to get up by
candlelight. It is as bad as going to bed by daylight.
There is evidently some element in the composition of
humanity which produces a craving for a difference between
the light it goes to bed by and that by whose aid it rises in
the morning. To wake up, and instead of being greeted by
the cool grey light of morning, to have a flickering
candle flaring before one's eyes, is certainly a -wretched
sensation. Then, who is there that does not associate this
waking up to a candle-lighted room with sickness, his own
or another's ? Some night-alarm or some night-disaster
lives in most people's memories, when they have been
hastily aroused, and found some one, candle in hand, stand-
ing by the bedside.
So Mr. Pinchbold having sprung out of bed to let his
friend in, when he came to awaken him, and having just
gone back again to settle his ideas before finally rising, Mr.
Pinchbold, we say, sat up in bed, and gave vent to the
remark with which this chapter opens.
It is a great mistake—and our travellers soon found out
that it was so—to attempt, when travelling on the continent,
G 2
84
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
to achieve an early breakfast. The cook is not tip, the fire
is not properly lit, perhaps not lit at all; nothing is ready,
nobody is •willing. An early breakfast is unknown among
foreigners ; and we should never attempt it when travelling
unless at very large towns, where there are hotels that are
frequented by people of all the nations under heaven.
The preparation for the breakfast, which Mr. Fudge had
rashly ordered, took so long that it was past eight o'clock
before everything was ready for the start.
The breakfast itself was an utter failure; the cook was
heard swearing in the kitchen, this great artist having been
roused at least two hours before it was his wont to descend
to the scene of his triumphs. Altogether, then, this waiting
for the breakfast was a great mistake, and though they got
off soon after eight in the morning, it was not early enough.
It was early enough, however, to be still the first thing in
the morning and as our two friends drove out of the inn-
yard—having first received directions with regard to their
route, and information as to the name of the inn where
they should put up at St. Pol—as they drove out into the
streets of the town, they both felt that it would be impos-
sible to hit upon anything more enjoyable than this journey
promised to be, and that it exceeded in pleasure and excite-
ment their most sanguine anticipations.
It was a lovely morning. The light of the still newly-
risen sun had that peculiar tenderness in it which is no
longer observable after ten o'clock in the forenoon, and
every house they passed seemed to wear a happy look that
made the little town to seem quite interesting and beautiful.
Our friends had still to wind some time about its narrow
streets before they found the gate at the opposite extremity
to that by which they entered St. Omer ; the gate on the
main road to Amiens, which town they expected to reach
(it being now Monday morning) on Wednesday.
But if the town of St. Omer looked beautiful by reason
of its being illuminated by the morning sun, how much
more did the country outside seem fresh and charming.
A BRIGHT BEGINNING.
85
Once outside the gates, their course lay along a straight
road, similar to that by which they had entered the town,
and shaded by an avenue of trees. To persons less dis-
posed to see all en rose than our two Englishmen, the
country on each side of the road might not have seemed
very beautiful, the truth being that it was something flat
and monotonous; but seen by the light of the morning sun,
and through the medium of a determination to be pleased
with everything, those green pastures and those yellow
corn-fields seemed the perfection of scenery. As the his-
torian of the journey undertaken by Mr. Fudge and his
friend, I cannot help dwelling with extreme gratification
upon this second day of their life in the carriole. The
enterprise had now, in addition to the real charm that
belonged to it, the freshness and novelty which attaches to
the beginning of everything. The country was new, for it
was with the towns of France only, and not its country,
that the two travellers had hitherto been acquainted.
 What, said Mr. Fudge, performing a perfect salute of
cracks with his whip, to which Bijou responded with the
music of her bells,  what pleasures has the town got to
give that are worth one hour of such enjoyment as this?
Fancy what is going on in London at this moment, and
what will go on all through the day'. Fancy the bald chat,
the faded gossip, the undue importance attached to the
small produce of small brains, the batterings, the toadyings,
and the venom spittings, which will add new defilement to
the already polluted air. I do not suppose, continued
Mr. Fudge,  that I am less intellectual than other people,
but I must own that I cannot understand the small value
which seems ordinarily to be set upon pleasures such as
these, in which I suppose it would generally be considered
that intellect takes little or no part. I am breaking a lance,
however, said Mr. Fudge, interrupting himself,  against
a man of straw ; it is only, after all, the smaller fry of the
intellectual world who are always occupied with the shop.
The true man of intellect is never a cockney, and rarely, if
86
A CRTJISE UPON "WHEELS.
ever, the hero of intellectual sets; the truly great among
such men are always worshippers of nature; and among
those two or three whom it has been my lot to know, I
have heard far more expressions of enthusiasm concerning
the delights which we get for nothing out of the four
elements than all the achievements of human brains have
been able to call forth. Air! air ! cried Mr. Fudge,
 fresh air like this, grass grown earth around me, the sea,
or the river to plunge into for refreshment or cleanliness—
 I did not know you could swim, Fudge, said Mr.
Pinchbold.
 And the fire to warm me when the evening closes in,
continued Mr. F., regardless of interruption, "these are the
pleasures for me.
"You must not, said Mr. Pinchbold,  underrate too
much what is intellectual; the good fire you speak of will
be all the better if you sit before it with a good book in
youi hand.
 Look at these country people, said Mr. Fudge, after
assenting to Mr. Pinchbold's apposite remark.  Look at
these country people 
 They have rather a truculent aspect, said Mr. Pinch-
bold.
 Look at that carter, with his comely white horses
jingling so gaily along the road. Look at those sturdy
wenches with their covered baskets, the contents of which
they will sell for a few sous in the town. Look at those
ploughmen yonder turning up those clods of fresh smelling
earth. Do you know, there are times when I envy the lot
of these peasants, because their craft keeps them of necessity
with the sky above their heads; because every such morn-
mg as this that breaks upon the earth, they have the benefit
of from its earliest ray, whilst I am asleep in the town, or
busy, with cramped fingers and flaccid muscles, at a desk.
If I dare to go out to get a sniff of morning air, my day's
work is spoilt; and so such days dawn in the morning and
blaze away in all their midday splendour, wasted, as tar as
 JOGGING ALONG.
87
I am concerned, and lost; happy if I can crawl out when
the best of the day is over and bask a little in its decline.
 There is good in it all, said Mr. Pinehbold.  See
when you get a chance like this, how you enjoy it. Those
peasants you talk about cannot feel the delight of such a
morning as this. They think only of the hardship of being
up so early ; their notion of pleasure is to get away from
their ploughs or their teams, and shut themselves up in a
close room, to put off their picturesque and easy costume,
and fetter themselves in such mimicry of the townsman's
dress as is within their reach. You could not stand the
uncivilized existence you are raving about if you had it.
You would be sick of it in six months.
"Well, I can only say, said Mr. Fudge,  that I have
never had my fill yet of a life under the open sky; but,
perhaps, by the time we get to Geneva I may begin to feel
an appetite for civilization. Suppose now we do our
accounts.
It was one of Mr. Pinchbold's functions to sit very up-
right in the carriole, and with a small account-book in one
hand and a pencil in the other, with his elbows as much as
possible detached from all contact of a jogging nature, to
note down all the expenses contracted in the course of the
journey. The results of these calculations going generally
to prove, first, that he and his friend were spending a great
deal; and, secondly, that he  would have to stick to it in
Westminster Hall on his return.
And so, with an occasional note in the diary, with occa-
sional snatches of conversation, and sometimes, it must be
acknowledged, with snatches of song, with occasional
gettings down to walk up-hill and stoppages to look at
anything worthy of note, the two companions jogged along
as happy as princes.
And Bijou. What, the reader will ask, has become of
that suspected limp which was the cause of so much anxiety
to both the travellers on the road to St. Omer ? It will
be remembered that, as they approached that town, both
88
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
gentlemen had arrived at an almost settled conviction that
their apprehensions on that subject had been without foun-
dation; and now, on the morning of their fresh start, they
saw no reason to change this opinion. And, indeed,
whether when walking up the hills, as we have said, they
marched alongside of the stately beast, or sat behind her as
she trotted along upon the level ground, it did seem very
unreasonable to have any doubts about Bijou's soundness.
Slow she might be, and was, but it was not difficult to keep
her up to her work, and at a crack of the whip, or a shout
of encouragement from Mr. Fudge, she would jingle her
bells, and putting down her head to get the advantage of
its weight, would trot along in a style that promised that
the journey to Geneva would one of these days be accom-
plished after all. It must not be supposed, however, that
with the memory of their last day's journey still in their
minds, the two friends felt altogether secure, and many
were the eager glances and very close the attention with
which Bijou's movements were watched by both gentle-
men ; but more especially by Mr. Fudge, the only blemish
in whose enjoyment of the morning consisted of a half fear
that he might in the course of the day see something sug-
gestive of a limp.
After a couple of hours' travelling away from St. Omer,
there was the excitement of a town to pass through. The
town of Aire, with its moat and drawbridge, and its walls
and portcullis—as if anybody wanted to meddle with Aire
—all complete, just as had been the case with St. Omer.
There is something compact and comfortable though, after
all, about a fortified town; and when it was the fashion to
close the gates at nightfall, the sensation of those inside
must have been very snug, like those of householders at
night when the bolts and bars are being secured and all.
made snug for the hours of darkness.
The midday resting-place of the travellers was not to be
at Aire, though Bijou seemed to think the little town well
adapted to the purpose, and manifested a great reluctance
ST. HILAIRE.
89
to quit it. There was a village, however, some miles
further on, which divided the day's journey better, and
here, as Mr. Fudge, who had got all the information he
could about the road before starting, had heard that there
was a good auberge, they had determined to pause for a
couple of hours for purposes of refreshment. They reached
St. Hilaire, which was the name of the village, a little after
midday.
The moment of their arrival seemed at first rather inop-
portune, and the company assembled already at the auberge
seemed rather disposed to regard them in the light of
intruders. This company, which was not a large one, was
assembled in a sort of kitchen, into which Mr. Fudge and
his companion were shown after they had disposed of Bijou
in the stable. There were five or six persons assembled in
this kitchen; of these, three men were seated at a table in
one of the windows playing at cards; and Mr. Pinchbold
thought that a group of individuals thus occupied in broad
daylight presented as unprepossessing an aspect as could
well be imagined, and it also struck him that at such a
time the dirt of dirty cards was a more appalling form of
pollution than any with which he had been previously
acquainted. Besides the card-players, there were present
in the room a couple of sewing wenches and a little skinny
bustling woman of a scorbutic but cleanly appearance.
The room looked rather bare and cheerless, in spite of a
promising-looking cauldron which was steaming away on
the fire. The most disconcerting thing connected with
this scene was that no one seemed to take any notice of
the arrival of the two Englishmen, a circumstance one
would have thought that was calculated to electrify the
whole assembly. But the card-players went on dealing,
the servant girls went on working, and the little woman
went on bustling almost as if there had been no addition to
the party. Nay, even when Mr. Fudge had made it known
that he and his friend were in want of something to eat
and drink, nobody seemed to understand him, or if they
90
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
understood him, to be disposed to meet his wishes : it was
more as if the travellers had entered a private house and
deranged an assembly of friends, than as if they had arrived
at an inn where everybody was ready to serve them. In
short, both Mr. Fudge and his friend felt like intruders.
There are few things, however, in this world that answer
better than importunity, and Mr. Fudge, who knew this
well enough, was not to be put down either by misunder-
standings (and it was astonishing how little use his know-
ledge of the French language appeared to be on this
occasion), nor was he to be daunted by a chilly reception.
So he went on hammering away at his purpose till he got
at any rate the promise that a meal of some kind should be
put before him and his companion, and with this assurance
they were obliged for the present to rest contented.
And now the little bustling woman began to move about
more briskly than ever, and the two servants, stimulated
by her example, set themselves to work in good earnest.
A huge coarse loaf was placed upon a bare table at the
extremity of the kitchen opposite to that occupied by the
card-players, and two or three pairs of knives and forks
were placed here and there without the previous formality
of laying the cloth. One or two labouring men coming in
at this time seated themselves about the table, and the two
strangers were beginning to think that they would be
expected to take their meal in company with these worthies,
when the little woman who seemed to be the landlady, and
who had been absent for the last few minutes, came bustling
up, and requesting them to follow her, led the way into an
adjoining apartment.
Here they found, to their great delight, a cloth laid,
though evidently not for their benefit only, as the round
table on which it was placed was garnished with six knives,
and forks to correspond. They were not long in discover^
ing who were to be their companions at table, for simulta-
neously with the appearance of a great tureen of soup,'
which the landlady brought in and placed upon the table,1
A PRACTICAL JOKER.
91
there entered, first of all . (to Mr. PincKbold's great dismay),
a genteel and not "unembarrassed lady in black silk, and
then a sturdy man of about two or three and forty, who
seemed wonderfully at home with everybody, and who
might or might not be the landlord, followed by a tall and
singularly prepossessing youth. A nondescript and cockney-
looking personage, who might have been the black silk
lady's husband or her brother, or who at any rate seemed
well acquainted with her, entered last and shut the door
behind him.
Now it was certainly rather trying for our two English-
men to sit down with four perfect strangers who were all
well acquainted with each other, and upon whom the
presence of the two strangers must necessarily have acted
as a restraint. There was no doubt that it did so. The
conversation was carried on in rather a covert manner, the
assembled acquaintances talking to each other in low tones
like conspirators ; and Mr. Fudge and his friend conversing
with each other in that distant and commonplace manner
which the most intimate friends, and even the nearest and
most loving relatives, seem for some mysterious reason
compelled to adopt when taking their food with the eyes of
strangers upon them. The task of ladling out the soup
and subsequently of carving devolved (in accordance with
that rule which assigns this post invariably to the heaviest
gentleman in company) upon the man who has been desig-
nated as having about him something of the aspect of the
landlord. This man was something of a character; he was
what the French call essentially a Farceur. This word is
so ill rendered by the English phrase, a joker, that for
once in a way we will ask leave to retain the native expres-
sion. He was full of practical jokes—not always very
funny, but always well received—the principal subject of
them being the young man whom we have described above
ais being of a pleasant countenance. He was just the youth
whom any member of the Farceur tribe would select for a
victim, being evidently both extremely sensitive and also
92 A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
of a modest and retiring disposition. It must be mentioned,
by the bye, that our Fargeur was perfectly good-natured
in poking his fun, and that his practical jokes were of the
simplest and most inoffensive kind. He would pretend to
forget that he had already assisted his young friend to a
plateful of victuals, and would, looking absently out of
window as he did so, place another similarly filled upon the
unconsumed contents of the first. He would then discover
his mistake, with elaborate apology. He would take his
neighbour's glass, and, draining its contents, would call
attention to the quantity of wine which this ingenuous
youth could get through; and then, taking an orange from
a plate of fruit which stood in the middle of the table and
putting it into the young man's plate, which was half full
of soup, would urge him to try the effect of this combina-
tion of delicacies. These and the like pleasantries were
kept up throughout the meal, and were so especially and
irresistibly delightful in the eyes of the little bustling land-
lady, that when she came in with any fresh dish (for she
did not partake of the meal herself) she would linger about
the table in a perfect ecstasy of admiration, and would look
from one to other of the guests with an expression which
seemed to say,  Oh ! what a man is this; was there ever
such wit, such brilliancy, such fascination !
The fascinator himself was evidently not unaware of the
extent of his attractiveness in the eyes of the worthy little
woman, and would make professions of exaggerated affec-
tion for her whenever she came into the room, to her
immense delight and amusement. It was evident enough
to both our travellers before the meal was advanced far that
he was not the landlord. It was not, however, so easy to
say what he was as what he was not; he had evidently been
a long time in his present quarters, and found them very
comfortable ones. He would have been hard to please if
he had not. The dinner was an excellent one, consisting of
soup, a famous piece of bouilli, a roast fowl, a capital leg of
mutton, lots of vegetables, and dessert, washed down with
ENGLISH CUSTOMS.
93
some very decent wine, some more than decent brandy, and
a bottle of kirscli, which caused the eyes of Mr. Pinchbold
to twinkle again, and unloosed his tongue to such an extent
that he engaged in a brisk argument with the nondescript
man who has been before mentioned as being perhaps the
husband of the black silk lady—an argument which bore
reference to the English game laws, and which originated
in an assertion on the part of Nondescript that the English
did not hunt the partridge, but only the hare. It was a
marked characteristic in Mr. Pinchbold's manner of express-
ing himself in the French language that he could get on
fluently enough up to a certain point, at which suddenly,
and with no gradation of failure, it would happen to the
unfortunate gentleman to be seized with a sudden paralysis,
which left him altogether speechless,—the most certain
means of producing such a stoppage being any indications
of attentive listening on tire part of those whom he
addressed. In the present case, then, as long as a buzz of
talk was going on, or the Farpeur was plying his jokes,
Mr. Pinchbold did very well; but a pause suddenly taking
place, and the company betokening a slight interest in the
argument that was going on, Mr. Pinchbold was suddenly
seized with an inability to speak: it unfortunately hap-
pened, too, that having entered in refutation of what the
nondescript man had advanced, he had undertaken to explain
the English game laws. Mr. Pinchbold had just begun a
sentence, by which he wished to convey to his opponent
that the gentlemen of England lived upon their estates,
when suddenly the seizure we have spoken of took posses-
sion of him just as he had reached the word  upon,
whilst the French equivalent for estates refused to come to
his aid.
 The gentlemen of England, said Mr. Pinchbold, "live
in the winter season upon—upon—
 Upon hares ! burst in his opponent.  That is just
as I said. The partridge is unknown, and the Milords hunt
the hare throughout the winter season.
94
A CEUISE UPON WHEELS.
Mr. Pinchbold turned very red, and stuttered and
stammered a great deal, but it would not do; be could not
get to tbe surface any more; and though Mr. Fudge,
tain no- up the gauntlet, endeavoured in his turn to explain
his companion's meaning, he did so to little purpose, the
company either could not or would not understand, and the
nondescript man was left in possession of the field.
One good result, however, was produced by this conver-
sational failure on the part of Mr. Pinchbold. The ice was
broken, and the restraint which the presence of the two
Englishmen had seemed to impose on the company ceased
to exist. The company now began to come out in their
true colours, and the meal being at length over, seemed
disposed to devote the afternoon to conviviality. The
Farceur became more profuse in his facetious demonstra-
tions than ever. There was a young pointer dog in the
room belonging to him, and an attempt was made on the
part of our humorist to induce this animal to perform a
series of tricks, the animal being, according to his master's
account, a highly trained one—an assertion, however, which
the company were obliged to take upon trust, the pointer
dog invariably creeping under the stick which he was
intended to jump over, dropping down upon his fore-legs
directly that the hand which raised him upon his hinder
extremities was withdrawn, and steadfastly declining to hold
a lump of sugar upon his nose till such time as his master
should give him leave to eat it. The Fa^eur, however,
seemed perfectly satisfied with his dog's performance, and
returning to table in better cue than ever, began once more
to make violent love to the little landlady, a proceeding
which, as the honest woman was never likely to see fifty
again, she might be supposed to permit with perfect
propriety. Indeed, the worthy lady appeared quite as
ready to laugh at the Fa^eur's mock heroics as any one
else. He certainly had a good notion of keeping the
company alive, and he was not long in hitting upon a new
means of doing so. The young traveller, who has been
MUSIC.
95
before Ipoken of as the victim of our Farceur's harmless
jokes, was now put fonvard in a new light. Mr. Fudge
had remarked that in one corner of the apartment in which
they were dining there rested an old violin and its bow,
and he had also observed that the young man, who had
attracted his attention from the first, had, on entering the
room, gone up to the place where this instrument stood,
and taking it up tenderly, as if he loved it, had touched
a note or two and adjusted the strings with no unac-
customed hand. It appeared now that his powers as a violinist
were to be called into play. The Farceur would take no
denial, and both Mr. Fudge and his friend were urgent in
requesting a specimen of the young traveller's abilities. It
was curious and very pleasant to see how the unmistake-
ably genuine modesty of the youngster, who was evidently
not a professional musician, struggled with his intense love
of music, and how all sense of embarrassment became lost
as he went on playing. He was no prodigy; he had taught
himself a certain number of airs, which, for the rest, were
well chosen, and played with an intensity of appreciation
which made the performer so far forget his audience, as to
indulge in certain physiognomical contortions of which he
was evidently not the least aware, while now and then an
expression of rapt enjoyment would pass over his features
which made amends for any less picturesque distortions.
Some passages from Chiillaume Tell, the u Kendez moi ma
patrie, and the  O ma tendre amie, from the delicious
 Pre-aux-Clercs, and certain morsels of Mozart, were-
among his collection of tunes. All seemed, curiously
enough, tinged with an indescribable melancholy, not even
excepting the strains of that sunniest and most light-
hearted of composers, Mozart himself.
It was a curious scene—just such a one as our two
travellers, but Mr. Fudge especially, would have dwelt on
in imagination as characterized by that piquancy and
novelty which they were journeying in search of. Here
was, to begin with, this Farijeur. Who or what was he ?
96
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
He was the kind of man who would be a good shot, who
would understand the points of a horse, and whose opinion
on the subject of cattle might be worth having. He would
probably know how to drain a field, and would be able to
tell you, if you were a railway company, and thought of
running a branch to St. Hilaire, whether the operation
Would answer or not. Then there was this musical young
man, travelling with his violin like Goldsmith with his
flute. Evidently he was not out of his station, and yet
there was something about him that seemed to separate
him from the rest. Who was he ? The cockney pair,
again—the essentially townish man and the equally townish
lady—what were they doing at this road-side inn ? Lastly,
if any one had been present to observe it, how additionally
strange would the whole combination have appeared, owing
to the presence of the two Englishmen, whom any one could
have seen were men well versed in London life, who had
probably never dined so near the kitchen in their lives
before.
In such interesting company the time wore away pretty
quickly. The Farceur went on with his jokes. The land-
lady reached such a pitch of enthusiastic enjoyment of
them, that she was fain at last to cry out,  Plus de farces,
and to entreat that these exquisite pleasantries might cease
before she expired with delight. The young man continued
to fiddle in utter unconsciousness that the Farceur had
clapped the landlady's cap on the top of his head. Mr.
Pinchbold, regardless of his recent failure, and true to his
mission of explaining English institutions to the French
nation, was engaged in trying to persuade the company that
half the English nation had enlisted as Volunteer soldiers,
not only without being paid, but at considerable pecuniary
loss to themselves. The cockney man—true denizen of a
land where the conscription is not unknown—was main-
taining flatly that the thing could not be. All these things
were in full cry together, and Mr. Fudge was sitting quietly
but delightedly noting the humour of the scene, when the
INSTRUMENTAL AND VOCAL.
97
confusion was suddenly augmented by a somewhat startling
proceeding on the part of the genteel lady in the black silk
dress, who, lashed into madness by the musical triumphs of
the young violinist, and inspired with courage by numerou's
sips of kirsch, burst suddenly into a flood of uninvited and
for some time unheard melody. It was that kind of flutey
gurgling, however, which is sure, if persisted in long enough,
to make its way through all obstacles, and as the black silk
lady did persist long enough, she did make her way, and
was left at last sitting with her chair pushed slightly back
from the table, and her eyes fixed on the ceiling with that
peculiar cataleptic stare which belongs to those who sing
without accompaniment.
It was time to go. Mr. Fudge, in a covert aside to Mr;
Pinchbold, expressed an opinion, founded on long observa-^
tion, that it was all very pleasant and convivial now, and
that it was better to depart before the next stage set in,
which might very likely be a quarrelsome one. Upon
hearing this, Mr. P. skipped off his seat with amazing
alacrity; and in spite of many invitations to remain, the
two Englishmen announced that the time had arrived when
they must once more betake themselves to the road. So
Bijou, who had had now two or three hours' rest, was once
more put between the shafts, and the two friends exchanging
a cordial greeting with the Farceur, and a warm shake of
the hand with the young violinist, once more started oil
their journey, leaving the black silk lady, who had sung
straight through all the preparations for their departure, in
the culminating flourish of her forty-second stanza.
Of course the friends had plenty to talk about as they
drove along, the lucky time they had hit upon for their
arrival, the queer company they had stumbled upon, while
they were not slow to congratulate themselves upon the
mode of travelling they had selected, both gentlemen agree-
ing that they might have travelled by railway for half a
dozen years without encountering a similar experience.
Indeed there seemed only one thing that equalled th©
H
38
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
singularity of their recent entertainment, and that was its
astounding cheapness ; for when Mr. Fudge took the scrap
•of paper, which served as a hill, from his pocket, Mr.
Pinchbold learnt, to his unbounded amazement, that .their
own most excellent dinner, together with the oats, hay, and
straw which Bijou had consumed, was represented-by the
.ridiculous sum of 4 francs 13 sous ; -or 3-s. 10\d. English.
Immediately after leaving St. Hilaire, the road by which
Itheir route lay branched off from the highway, this last
making considerable circuit round by Tillers. It was a sort
of April day, with occasional showers, which had.made -.the
road especially heavy ; it would have been a bad one-enough
without this, being formed principally of loose , stones about
the size of the human head. -Our travellers were, therefore,
bumped about finely enough; but neither bumpings nor
showers had any-effect upon the excellent spirits in which
they both found themselves. The sun, too, would-every
now and then break out from among the clouds, and light
up the little rounded hills and tufted woods, through which
their road lay, in the most comfortable way-conceivable.
On they sped at a sober pace over hill and -dale, by wood
and meadow; now through a long and .prosperous village
a great man's chateau with a chapel in the .grounds at -the
entrance to it; now through a little hamlet of half a dozen
shabby huts; till at last, towards the close of the.afternoon,
they reached the little village of Pernes, at which they had
-determined to make a second halt. But, alas ! before they
had got,-so far, that short-lived possession, human happiness,
had, in the case of both the friends, received a severe check.
For the last few miles of the road unmistakeable signs of
-fatigue had .manifested themselves on poor Bijou; and as
they descended the hill into the village of Pernes, .a :most run-
{equivocal limp became but too apparent.
. This was a terrible termination to a hitherto dpbgbtfifi
jday. To have conceived an apprehension, .to have die-
missed it as ill-grounded, and then to have it reawakened,
sto pass through this series of mental experiences is much
EE-ACTION.
,99
more distressing than to have received an unpleasant truth
-as: such, from the beginning. It was through such an ex-
perience that Mr. Fudge and his friend had passed: their
fears had been awakened, as the reader will remember, on
the subject of Bijou's soundness, as they travelled to St.
Omer; the fear had been dismissed as without foundation;
and,now it was forced back upon them with all the strength
of conviction—just, too, as Mr. Pinchbold said, piteously,
 when they were enjoying themselves so much.
The fact is, that there really was some ground for con-
siderable despondency on the part of both the travellers.
The very foundation of all their hopes of completing the
journey, begun with so much difficulty, lay altogether
bound up, in the bones and sinews of La Perle de Malaise ;
and here she was,, on the second day of, their expedition,
showing- unmistakeable signs of some great blemish in one
of her limbs. Then, again, to consider the question of mere
present inconvenience; here they were a good ten miles
Short of their resting-place for the night, with a lame horse
unreasonably knocked up in consequence, doubtless, o/that
lameness; while, to make the matter worse, the afternoon
was beginning to show unmistakeable signs that it was about
to resign in favour of its successor, the evening. The
only thing to be done was to try the. effect of an hour's rest
and a feed of corn.
The yard of the auberge at Pernes was a great dreary
place, full of pigs, of dung heaps, and liquid manure ; and
as there was something of a hill behind the house, there was
a considerable incline from one end of the yard to the other.
The auberge itself was such an unpalatable-looking place,
that Mr. Fudge and his companion preferred remain-
ing among the pigs in the court-yard, or gloomily
watching Bijou in the stable, where she was eating her oats,
to accepting the landlady's invitation to enter the house.
Both gentlemen were sadly out of spirits in consequence of'
Bijou's break-down. Mr. Pinchbold sat himself down on
: the edge of a pigsty; while Mr. Fudge, too disconsolate
100
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
even for companionship, retired to the interior of the carriole
to secure a certain small strap which had given way in the
course of the journey. Whilst he was thus engaged, one
of those ridiculous incidents which occur so often at times
when we are in anything but a humour to appreciate the
comic, took place. It has been mentioned that the inn-
yard was a large one, and that there was a considerable
slope from one end of it to the other. The carriole had
been left at the upper extremity of this slope, and Mr.
Fudge was no sooner ensconsed in its interior than it slowly'
began to move; it had no sooner got a start than the incline
began to tell upon the pace; and Mr. Pinchbold, startled by
the sound of wheels, and looking up, beheld the carriole,
with his friend inside it, careering along the yard at the
rate of six good miles an hour: it was supremely ridiculous.
Mr. Fudge mechanically seized the reins, which were lying
over the front of the vehicle, and forgetting that there was
no horse in the shafts, called out, "Wo! in a lusty voice.
Mr. Pinchbold uttered loud cries for help, and rushed Co
the rescue, but finding nothing to take hold of, could only
dance round the vehicle in impotent despair, feeling that if
he attempted to arrest it in front it would run over him,
while, if he grasped at the wheels behind (and there was
nothing else to take hold of) he could expect nothing less than
to have both his hands crushed in the attempt; so Mr. Pinch-
bold continued to call loudly for assistance : and the ostler
and landlady hastening to the rescue, arrived just at the
moment when the carriole having reached the bottom of the
slope, performed a majestic curve round the remaining
portion of the yard, till having exhausted its impetus, and
having met with a serious obstacle to progress in the shape
of a large dunghill, it at last quietly settled down into a
state of repose. Mr. Fudge descended from his position of
peril; and Mr. Pinchbold receiving him with open arms,
inquired, in a voice trembling with anxiety, whether he was
much hurt.
The laughter produced by this absurd occurrence had
AN EVENING WALK.
101
the effect of somewhat raising the spirits of the two gentle-
men. After about an hour of repose in the stable the
unfortunate Bijou was once more brought out and put in
harness. The day had by this time declined very consi-
derably, and not more than an hour, if that, of faint and
feeble light remained. As the travellers ascended the hill
which leads out of the village of Pernes, it became apparent
to them that the hour's rest, if it had not actually made
Bijou worse, had certainly not made her better. She was
evidently, in the language of the turf,  distressed, and
the prospect of a ten-mile drive under such circumstances
was anything but inviting. With longer experience in the
art of conducting a horse through a long journey, Mr. Fudge
got to know that there are few greater mistakes than the
practice of dividing the day's work into more than two
portions. All the time that can be spared for purposes of
repose should be concentrated into the one midday rest, the
duration of which in a long day's journey should not be less
than four hours. It is astonishing how much more easily a
horse will do his work with one such rest as this, than with
two of two hours each.
Had the wretched little inn which they had just left
been only one degree less squalid and unattractive, Mr.
Fudge and his friend would certainly have turned back
and passed the night there; but the place was so wretched,
and above all so dirty, that they both, and Mr. Pinchbold
especially, felt the strongest repugnance to the idea of so
doing.
"We must walk, then, said Mr. Fudge.
Both gentlemen now got down and set themselves to the
task of a long walk, determining that if necessary they
would even rather proceed to St. Pol on foot, leaving Bijou
only the weight of the carriole to draw, than go back and
pass the night at Pernes. The walk in itself, and apart
from the recollection of Bijou's impaired condition, would
have been pleasant enough. The evening sights and sounds
which struck upon their senses as they passed along, were
A CRUISE UPON WHEEES.
not'inferior in attraction to those which on the'mottling of
tfiis long dfty had yielded them so much delight. But how
was it possible to enjoy anything much with that poor beast
walking along beside them and giving such unmistakeable
evidence of her unfitness for the journey. There was some—
thing so affecting, too, about her docility, something so>-
infinitely deplorable in the thought that the handsome'
creature whose white form showed to such advantage in the*
twilight was in all probability, owing to some blemish ■the*
extent of which they could not yet know, a spoilt and;
valueless animal! The day declined, the glow of the*
setting sun gave place to twilight, and the twilight tee
darkness,' and still they trudged along, presenting'such a>
wonderful contrast tb what they were that very morning*, .,
that it was hardly possible to believe that the same'peoplfet
could have'become so different in less than twelve short:
hours. There seemed' no end to this part of their journey:.
Sometimes with a desperate hope of' shortening it, they
Would get into their vehicle and endeavour for a little'-while''
t'o mend their pace, but these attempts were of little use,'-*
and they soon ended in being obliged' to have recourse once1
more to their legs. Everything' around them seemed to
have altered in character; their way, as-well as they could'
gee, seemed to lie over waste and barren places; and fibm-
time to time they would be involuntarily startled'by the*
semblance of a human figure with outstretched1 arms raised®
between them' and the cold grey sky, nor would- they be
much relieved to find that it was but one of those terrible*
life-sized crucifixes which the ferocious piety; or rather
superstition, of northern France has erected along- 1he
margins of these deserted roads.
It was nine o'clock at night, and- more than three hours
after they had left Femes, that* they fbund. themselves
entering the dark streets of St. Pol. The landlord-of the
Hotel d'Anglet'erre, at St. Pol, was a young man, which no
landlord has a right to be; he wore steel spectacles, which
no landlord has a right to do; he had the aspect' of a
THE' PRIEST GF ST. POL.
medical student; which no landlord has a right to have ;:
and he looked, on with his-hands in his pockets and whistled,
while the travellers got down their own luggage and lifted
about their own boxes, in a manner in which no landlord'
has a right to look on and whistle. Nothing can be more
disconcerting on the part of an innkeeper than such-
behaviour, unless it is the manifesting of a certain indif-
ference as to whether you come into his hotel or not, and
any uncertainty of speech in connexion with the grand
question of suppers and bed-rooms. The landlord of the
inn at: St. Pol having offended them in aH the particulars
which Ave have thus hinted at, our two Englishmen entered
the salle a manger, having first seen to the comforts of
Bijou, in rather a disconsolate frame of mind.
"Good evening, gentlemen; you have just arrived?
How did you come? The diligence has been in some-
hours; have you come from Arras, from Bethune, from
Doullens, where, in short, have you come from ?
Now, to be greeted the moment you are inside the door
of a strange salle a manger, arriving dead tired, exhausted
with hunger, blinking out of the darkness, Avith such a
volley of questions as this Avould be disconcerting enough
in itself, even supposing the inquiries to have emanated
from a person of prepossessing or even of an ordinary
appearance. But when this rude assault is immediately
connected with an apparition of the biggest, the ugliest, the-
most villanous, the bonyest, the most muscular, the largest
headed, the largest mouthed, the hugest nosed, the protru-
dingest eyed, the dirtiest handed, and altogether the most
appalling priest ever beheld by mortal eyes, then, indeed, is
the situation one calculated to make the strongest set of
nerves quake, whilst the effect upon those of a Aveaker type
is something that the mind shrinks from contemplating.
When Mr. Pinchbold beheld the apparition Avhich we
have described, he shrunk back, and left Mr. Fudge to
meet the first shock of the encounter Avith the priest. He
was seated in the very middle of a long bare table, appa-
A CHUISE UPON WHEELS.
rently waiting for his supper, solacing himself in its absence
with huge lumps of bread. But not the hugest lump that
he could put into his mouth was able to arrest for one
•moment the flood of questions which issued from it. He
invariably spoke with his mouth full, and as his tongue was
ftoo large even for his mouth, and his voice was a very loud
«ne, it may be imagined that the effect was not pleasing.
.Everything this fearful man did was done violently, and as
if he had far more of the vital element in him than he knew
what to do with. He eat violently, he breathed violently,
he spat violently, he pushed back his skull-cap from a low
retreating forehead, and scratched his head violently, he
•stared violently. He was so alive, so huge, so goggle-eyed,
and his long black cassock covered so gigantic a frame, that
he seemed, as Mr. Pinchbold gazed in horror upon him, tc '
expand and fill the whole apartment.
We have seen that this tremendous personage was down
upon our travellers the moment they entered the room, but
when they had reached the table and sat down opposite
him, which they were obliged to do, as there was only one
lamp and that hung immediately over the priest's head—
when they were thus encamped opposite to him, his questions
came thick and fast indeed. The worst of it was, that
when Mr. Pinchbold became the object, as not unfrequently
happened, of these questionings, such was his panic-stricken
condition, that he could not articulate one single word, so
that Mr. Fudge had not only to answer for himself, but for
his friend; a position which would have been sufficiently
embarrassing, even if Mr. Pinchbold had not kept on con-
tinually nudging him under the table, entreating him in
-their native tongue to mind what he was about, as he felt
certain that the priest was a spy, who would betray them
in some way or other into the hands of government.
 You are travellers, gentlemen; where do you come
from ? From St. Omer's, eh ? And before that ? From
Calais—-really. But how did you travel—there is no
Dublic vehicle at this hour ? Oh ! in your own carriage,
THE PRIEST OF ST. POL.
105
and with your own horse. That must be an expensive
way of travelling; but you are rich ?
 By no means; quite the contrary.
 Oh, yes, you are ; all the English are rich. Only the
Irish are poor. They suffer and remain in poverty because
they are faithful. Are you cold ?
 No; not particularly.
"Is that gentleman cold? pointing to Mr. Pinchbold;
 his teeth are chattering. He is cold. He is younger
than you are, is he not ? To look at him, one would not
give him more than twenty-six or twenty-seven years. Do
you always travel together ?
 Not always.
 And this carriage, did you bring it over from England
with you? No ? But the horse, doubtless ?
 No, neither horse nor carriage.
 You have travelled in France before ?
 Yes.
"You have been at Paris, at Boulogne, at Lyons, at
Dijon, no doubt?
 No doubt.
 Have you been at Amiens, for instance ?
 Undoubtedly.
"And this gentleman—has he also visited all these
places ?
 He has visited some; but, to the best of my belief, not
all of them. You have never been at Dijon, have you ?
said Mr. Fudge, addressing the last sentence to Mr. Pinch-
bold in their native tongue.
« Yes—no ; I don't know—never mind—don't tell him.
"Your friend does not speak French ? asked tire priest
again.
"Yes; he speaks the language just as badly as I do.
Come, his name is Pinchbold, and my name is Fudge, and
we are both English, and we are travelling through France,
and we have our own horse and our own carriole, because
we want to see the country and to study its inhabitants,
M6
A CRUISE UPON WHEEES-
and to-satisfy ourselves whether the rumours which have
reached our metropolis, attributing to the French priesthood
the custom of asking incessant questions, is founded on
fact; and so now you know all about it.
The priest continued his questions, nothing daunted by
Mr. Fudge's last remark.  Was Mr. Pinchbold. travelling
with the same views ? "Was he married ? Was Mr. Fudge
married? Had Mr. Fudge any brothers or sisters?
Were any, of his brothers or asters married? Oh! his
sister was married. What was the profession, of the
gentleman who had married Mr. Fudge's sister ? And
Mr. Pinchbold, had he any brothers or sisters? Had he
any aunts or uncles? Oh, he had an uncle by the mother's
side, had he ? Was Mr. Pinchbold's. uncle by the mother's
side married ? Had Mr. Pinchbold's uncle by the mother's'
side any offspring?
At this point in the proceedings, the supper making its
appearance, the attention of the worthy divine became so
utterly absorbed in the contemplation, of an attack upon it,
that beyond a final inquiry whether they meant to eat any
bread, coupled with an assertion that he knew that the
English never- did eat any bread:-with their meals—beyond
this, the travellers were at length left to themselves, and
allowed to occupy themselves with eating their own suppers,
or watching the priest of St. Pol as he flung himself upon:
his.
But if the- priest:was horrible to behold when merely
engaged in stanching his appetite with occasional morsels of
bread, what was he now, that having crossed himself on his
wicked old breast;.he set himself in earnest to work at the
viands which were placed before him ? Such a noisy eater
was this priest; such a devourer, with his eyes, of the5
dish that was to follow that which he was engaged upon,—
sueh a lapper-up of soup, such a whistling chewer of tough'
bouilli, such a tearer of the underdone flesh of cold gigot,
such, a cruncher of the bones of young chickens; that all!
appetite forsook our travellers at sight of him, and they
THE PEIEST OF ST. POL.
107
were not long- in finding an excuse for abandoning the
sallea manger; leaving their terrific tormentor still at work,
with a stream of omelette aux fines herbes running out of:
each corner of his mouth.
 What a priest ! said Mr. Fudge, as soon as they had
got outside the door.
 He will execute some hideous vengeance, said Pinch-
bold, gloomily.  I observed his expression when you
made that rash speech about the priests, and-it. was horrible-
to behold.
 I could not help it, said Mr. Fudge ;  his curiosity
was so impertinent.
 Not a wink of sleep for me to-night, said Mr. Pinch-
bold.  By the bye, Fudge, Ave never got a pistol, after-
all; and in these French inns there is not so much as a
poker or a bootjack to use as a weapon.
There was no banishing the idea of that priest; and Mr.
Pinchbold felt so convinced that he would knock at the
door to ask for medicine to cure that indigestion which his
supper might be expected to engender, that he borrowed
one of the fire-dogs from Mr. Fudge's room to keep by him
as a means of defence in the event of such an apparition.
Mr. Pinchbold describes his apartment as a vast bare-
looking room, so white-washy and unfurnished, that it
looked like a ward in a hospital. He mentions that there
were two beds in it, his own and another not made; that
there was a large deal table with a small washhand-basin
on it, two chairs, and a lively engraving hung on the Avail
representing six human beings in a caldron full of flames
praying to St. Pol himself for deliverance, the saint looking
on with an air of some indifference from a place of security,
out not of comfort, inasmuch as he is represented sitting on
a marble chimney-piece which is supported by clouds, and
has his legs dangling in the air. Mr. Pinchbold further-
remarks, that his apartment is so dimly lighted that he
fancies he sees the priest hovering in its dark corners, that
he also confidently expects his black legs to appear doAvn
108 A CEUISE UPON WHEELS.
the chimney, his vile head to emerge from under Ifhe beds,
or his/whole body to burst the limits of a certain chest of
drawers which would not open, and to appear, bloated and
supper-swollen, charged with a thousand additional questions
which he had forgotten to ask before. Mr. P. also remarks
in an entry—which is, however, dated the next mornings-
that he felt animated with a lion's heart; and that, armed
with the fire-dog which he had by his bedside, he felt
himself equal to the encounter of any number of priests,
swollen or otherwise.
109
CHAPTER VII.
showing how the travellers set off for the hostelry of
the quatre fils d'aymon, and how they made tea on the
road, triumphing altogether over the opposition of the
elements.
Beyond a sound compounded in about equal parts of a
shriek, a groan, and a snore, kept up with monotonous
regularity throughout the whole night, and obviously
emanating from the mouth and nose of the inquisitive priest,
the travellers may be said to have enjoyed throughout the
night a joyful immunity from any further persecution at his
hands. When they descended to breakfast the next
morning, he was nowhere to be seen; but though Mr.
Fudge was disposed simply to congratulate himself on this
circumstance, Mr. Pinchbold took a less hopeful view of
the case, and construed his absence into an expedition which
should in some way or other betray them into the hands of
Government—a fear continually agitating that gentleman's
breast; though what Government was to do with them
when it had got them, or why if it wanted them it could
not take them without anybody to betray them at all, it
would have been difficult to say.
The fact was, that the priest had gone to assist at a
certain ceremony, concerning which the whole population
of St. Pol was more or less in a state of excitement. There
was a wedding going on that morning, and as the parties to
this ceremony were what the landlady of the inn called
 des gens comme il faut, the event was a great one, and
made a corresponding sensation. This way of describing
110
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
people, by the bye, as  comme il faut, is, considering the
•qualifications necessary to deserve this glorious title, rather
indicative of an appreciation of great pecuniary than great
moral pre-eminence on the part of the French nation 5 the
• people such as they ought to be, which is the literal
translation of the phrase, being by no means persons of
great excellence of life, or distinguished by the possession of
all the cardinal virtues, but simply such as were endowed
with a pretty fortune, and set a good example to their
neighbours in all. matters connected with the appointments
of their household or the arrangement of their toilette. Our
two travellers, however, esteemed themselves lucky in
•catching a glimpse of these  gens comme il faut at a later
period of the day, when they were once more seated in the
•carriole, and engaged in the prosecution of their journey.
The inn at St. Pol was by no.means a bad one, and,had
not our travellers been rash enough to.ask for.tea at break-
fast, they might'have (carried away a tolerable impression
of the house. (There was, by the bye, according to the
testimony of both (gentlemen, a peculiar kind *t>f speckle&
bug in the beds at this hotel, endowed .with /mysterious
powers •; of eluding the . human grasp, which > neither _Mt.
Fudge nor his triend had ever met with before—-the. atten-
tion of entomologists is invited.) iBut the tea! .In the
first place, there is something discouraging about a large
.-square china teapot; depend upon it, no good ever comes
.of such a vessel. It was filled with a liquid, the exact
•counterpart of which may at any time be produced day
pouring two < quarts of tepid water .on half a handful .of
•chopped hay, adding a soupqon of tallow and . one blade
currant.
It so happened on the particular morning with which we
are concerned, both our Englishmen were consumed with
that burning desire for a cup of tea which only. that
beverage can awaken, and which no other liquid-whatso-
ever can assuage. , It certainly' was not to ; be -.assuaged> by
the composition which we have just described,:>and -so -at
THE INHABITANTS.
Ill
ended in a determination, arrived at simultaneously by both
gentlemen, that, fey hook or by crook, they would attempt
the tremendous achievement of preparing, somehow or other,
a cup of tea with their own hands, and that this attempt
should fee made before the day was many hours older. But
how many things did they require in order to effect this
purpose? It was true that they had brought with them
from Calais an Etna, a wicker bottle of spirits of wine, and
a canister of tea ; but there were many more necessaries to
be obtained before they could hope to obtain the result they
so ardently desired. They had a short drive only before
them; for, in consideration of Bijou's lameness and fatigue^
they had determined that their next resting-place should be
at Doullens—a small town about half-way between St. Pol
and Amiens, and-somewhere about twenty miles from each.
This distance the travellers had resolved to perform without
stopping en route, as they could by that means remain
longer at St. Pol, and so prolong for Bijou's sake the rest of
the night and morning. The two Englishmen had there-
fore plenty -of time to go out and procure such things as
they stood.in need of for their contemplated tea-making.
They could bestow a glance on the town itself at the same time.
But if it was their intention as they walked along to
bestow a glance upon the town, it certainly was the
intention of the town—as represented by its inhabi-
tants—to bestow a glance upon them. There never were
such starers as the St. Polians. Ear out of the way of every-
thing, removed at an immense distance from any railway,
this deserted place is rarely visited by strangers, even of
French birth ; while the occasions on which the pavements
of this little town have been darkened by English shadows
must have been rare indeed. A deserted place, not old
enough to be picturesque—a main street, to which the
same description applies, were enough in their utter dreari-
ness to send our travellers back to their hotel, even if they
had not really been stared completely out of countenance
into the bargain. Shopkeepers would come out of their
112
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
shops to stare at them, and would  step next door after
they had passed, to compare notes with their neighbours on
the subject of the strangers. Pedestrians would hurry on
to get a good place in front, from which to observe them as
they approached, or would call at the houses of friends to
warn them not to lose this chance, but to run to their
windows. Altogether they were glad enough when their
purchases were made, and the more so that a crowd was
assembled round the door of every shop they went into to
watch their proceedings within, and to devour them, ocularly
speaking, as they came out. It must be acknowledged that
some of this staring was attributable to the demoralized
condition of the populace consequent on the wedding of the
 gens comme il faut. The public had turned out as one
man to see the procession of vehicles which carried the
bridal party to church, and were now eager for some excite-
ment to while away the time till the ceremony was over
and the return procession formed. Altogether, then, it was
a bad time for the Englishmen to have chosen for their
sortie, and they were not sorry when, with pockets distended
by their recent purchases, they found themselves once more
within the shadow of the inn walls.
They had indeed encouraged local trade quite on a large
scale. They had bought a pound of white sugar, a tin can
with a lid, to hold milk, two china mugs to drink out of,
a long stone bottle for water, and a large covered basket to
hold it all, with room enough in it besides for the Etna, the
spirits of wine bottle, and the tea-canister. Later on in
their journey, and after the inestimable value of their tea-
equipage had been frequently proved, a second wicker
bottle full of spirits of wine was added, in order that there
might always be one full and one in use—an indispensable
arrangement this, as spirits of wine is not always to be got,
and to run short of it at a moment of tea-appetite is to
experience one of the most fearful sensations known to man.
Another improvement, too, which our intrepid travellers
subsequently made in their system was the substitution of
A TEA-EQUIPAGE.
113
a third wicker bottle for milk in place of the can, as it is
easier to carry such a vessel about, because it is flat, and
lies snug and unsuspected in a coat-pocket. A tin funnel
to convey the milk into the bottle's narrow mouth must
also be provided. Here, then, is a list of the things re-
quired for making up a tea-basket—an institution without
which no English traveller should travel, if he intends
exploring the less frequented parts of the Continent. It
must be mentioned, however, that the stone bottle to hold
water is not needed in general, and that it was only because
our travellers contemplated a pic-nic tea by the roadside
that they were under the necessity of providing one. The
tea-basket, then, of the ordinary traveller need only con-
tain :—a metal teapot (not silver) ; a tea-caddy; a wicker
bottle for milk, and a tin funnel to fit into the neck of the
bottle; two additional wicker bottles for spirits of wine; a
tin can for sugar, and as many common earthenware mugs
—they cost only a few sous apiece—as there are persons in
the travelling party. The writer is much mistaken if those
who adopt this idea of the tea-basket will not be grateful
for the hint. They will get in time quite to love it and all
that it contains, from remembering how it has ministered
to their comfort, and they will lay it up in ordinary when
they get back to England as a thing to be kept apart,
sacred to the remembrance of their journey.
Mr. Fudge having gone through the disagreeable process
of greasing the wheels of the carriole, an achievement
which it was necessary for him to perform every two days,
and which was in this case carried out under the eye of
the landlord, who stood looking on and whistling all the
time it Avas going on—Mr. Fudge having completed this
operation, and having stowed away all the luggage, as
usual, in the back of the carriole, the landlord whistling
more than ever, all things were pronounced ready for the
start; and the travellers, after learning that the inn at
which they were to stop for the night, at Doullens, went
by the romantic name of the  Quatre Fils d'Aymon, got
i
114
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
once more under weigh, at about noon, intending, as Bijou
had received her midday feed before starting, to travel very
leisurely and spend the day upon the road.
"We must get her to Amiens, if possible, said Mr.
Fudge, speaking of the mare,  travelling very slowly, and,
jnce arrived at that town, we must take advice about her.
I much fear this lameness is a serious affair, and that its
cure will take up more time than we have to give.
As our Englishmen ascended the hill which leads out of
the town of St. Pol, they saw before them, also ascending
the hill, what appeared to be a procession, so numerous
was the concourse of gentlemen and ladies who were
walking slowly and solemnly up the rising ground: in front
of them. The procession was divided into two parties, the
gentlemen being all together in one, and the ladies in the
other. Neither ladies nor gentlemen had any covering on
their heads. As the men were all dressed in blaek from
head to foot, being clothed in full evening costume—as
they kept all in a little cluster together, forming one- black
mass, and moving very slowly towards the brow of the
hill—Mr. Fudge could not help thinking that they bore
some resemblance to a funeral party without a body, going
slowly in search of it.
The party, however, which our friends were now gra-
dually approaching, was not assembled together on any
mournful occasion, though its members were silent and
solemn enough to have justified the idea.
"It is the wedding! cried Mr. Pinchbold, suddenly
struck with an idea; and he was right. The  gens eomme
II faut were, in the interval between the ceremony which
was just over and the meal' whieh it may be supposed was
not ready, amusing themselves with that harmless recrea-
tion, a walk, and the giver of the feast having no garden
capable of holding so large an assembly, the company was
obliging enough to put up with the high road as a substi-
tute. The fact is, that they were nothing loth to show
themselves j the bride and bridegroom, who were among
A WEDDING PARTY.
115*
the pedestrians, having none of that, desire to hide them-
selves from all human scrutiny which seems to affect, to an
extent almost morbid in its excess, the recently married in
our own country. The bride in this case was quite as
ready to show herself off in her white costume as the
bridegroom in his black, and both looked proudly round as
the carriole approached, that those whom it contained
might have an opportunity of seeing them to the best
advantage.
 And we poor exiles, said Mr. Pinchbold, as they drove
on, and watching the wedding party through the little pane
of glass at the= back of the carriage as he spoke— and we
poor exiles'are wandering thus away from home and kindred,,
forming no social ties, much less any of a more tender kind.
' Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow,' we wander on far
from our native land in the midst of dangers and privations.
When I see such a scene as this, continued Mr. P.,.
abandoning his look-out, which, in consequence of its small
circumference and the jolting of the vehicle, did not enable
him to see much,—  when I look on such a scene as this,
I feel indeed what it is to be an outcast, and to have one's
dark and cheerless lot cast upon a foreign soil.
Mr. Pinchbold, who was of a susceptible nature, and
singularly sensible to the attacks of the tender passion, was
accustomed to bemoan himself thus occasionally. He soon
rallied, however, and the moment having arrived when the
friends considered that they were far enough away from
the town, to commence their contemplated tea-making
operations, the little gentleman set himself to work to
perform his part in this most important proceeding with an
energy and determination which did not savour much of
the blighted outcast he had professed himself to be.
The place ehosen by the two friends for their first ex-
periment in wayside tea-making was as charming a spot for
the purpose as could well be imagined. In a little valley at
the bottom of a long hill which they had just descended,
and with another in front which they would by-and-by
I 2
116
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
have to mount, our travellers pulled up, and turning aside
to a spot where some turf grew by the roadside, and where
there was a pleasant shade of trees overhead, they drew the
carriole up in the shadiest place they could find—for it was
>a very hot day—and began their preparations. And here
it was that one of the invaluable characteristics of Bijou,
which fitted her so pre-eminently for a journey of this
whimsical kind, was made very apparent. She would
stand still. The flies were buzzing about her and annoying
her sadly all the time, and would have driven any other
horse into a state of frenzy; but there she stood, merely
protesting now and then against her tormentors with an
occasional stamp, but making no attempt to move on or to
turn away to one side or the other.
And now the tea-making began in earnest. Mr. Pinch-
bold had, after many fruitless attempts, been successful in
procuring at a certain small village which they had passed
through, a supply of milk which completely filled the tin
oan. He had sat balancing this vessel as well as he could
during the drive that ensued, but he was now, in spite of his
efforts, completely covered with white splashes, which gave
him something of the appearance of a whitewasher who had
been touching up a ceiling in his Sunday clothes. There
was plenty of milk, however, left in the can, and so it was
carefully set aside in a place by itself, ready for the crisis.
It was a sight to behold the workmanlike manner in which
Mr. Pudge went to work at the tea-making. First of all
he established the Etna in a flat place ; and a very difficult
thing he found it to discover a dead level suited to his
purpose. It was found at last, though, after a good many
tiltings and upsettings and dilutings of the spirits of wine in
the tin saucer of the Etna with water which was jogged
over from the interior of the vessel. A level place was
found at last, and the Etna was established upon it, and a
new supply of spirits of wine being added, there really
seemed, if it would but ignite, that there was some hope, of
ultimate success. The next difficulty was to get a light.
A DIFFICULT UNDERTAKING. 117
One of the most mysterious things with which the writer of
this narrative is acquainted is the strong antagonism between
sunlight and lucifer-matches. It is unaccountable enough
that there should exist any sort of jealousy on the part of so
mighty a luminary as the sun towards so paltry a firework
as a lucifer, but certain it is that he will not hear of one.-
It is almost impossible to light one in his presence, and
when it is at last kindled, ten to one it goes out again
directly. Then how unmistakeably is any attempt to<
 strike a light the signal for the development of hitherto
concealed breezes. There exists not that day which is so-
sultry as to be without a puff ready for a semi-ignited-
lucifer. Before you attempt to kindle the match, and for
many hours afterwards, all is still, but once take your box-
with the roughened lid in hand, and lo ! a light zephyr
instantly starts up, and plays around you in such fitful and'
inconsistent wise, too, that turn and twist about as you will,,
there is no eluding it.
At length, by getting into the interior of the carriole, and
retiring to its innermost recesses, Mr. Fudge did at length
manage—assisted by Mr. Pinchbold, who held a hat exactly
where it most impeded his friend's movements—to obtain
the wished-for light; and as Mr. P. had several pieces of
paper ready to ignite, the friends did at length manage
to bring one of them in contact with the spirits of
wine in the Etna's saucer, and so at last they had the delight
of seeing a thin and filmy flame like blue gauze envelop-
the vessel which held their water, flickering around it in a
sheet of lambent blue fire which it was very pretty to see.
It were long to tell of the eagerness with which this flame
was watched, of the way in which Mr. Fudge listened one
minute after it had been ignited to hear if there was any
sound of bubbling, of the disastrous clumsiness of Mr
Pinchbold, who striving to get the lid of the Etna off in
order to see if the water was boiling, did at last remove
it, it is true, but with a jerk which discharged so large a
portion of the blazing spirits of wine over the floor of the
118
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
carriole, -that if Mr. Fudge had not been by, with the flask
in his hand, what remained must infallibly have gone out,
when all must have been begun again.
It was surely a great moment when the first bubbles
began to appear on the surface of the water; and Mr.
Fudge, standing with the Etna in one hand, and the open
teapot in the other, and leaning forward to avoid splashes,
gave the word for Mr. Pinchbold, who was waiting by his
side in a breathless condition of excitement, to whisk off
the top of the Etna, and, at the same time, to blow out the
flame which was still blazing in the saucer. It was surely,
too, a great sight to behold Mr. Fudge, when, at the moment
of the performance of these manoeuvres by his friend, he
discharged the clear boiling liquid in a crystal Stream,
'which descending into the secret heart of the teapot, was
there lost sight of, never to appear again as water, but to be
seen next in the form of amber-coloured tea. The excite-
ment of Mr. Pinchbold, now that the tea was made, was so
:great, and his desire to try it so premature, that Mr. Fudge
was obliged to take him by the arm, and walk him up and
down at a distance from the carriole, something after the
anode adopted by the friends of those who have unconsciously
swallowed an overdose of laudanum.
At length it was discovered, by reference to Mr. Fudge's
watch, that the tea had stood exactly seven minutes, which
being the time allotted by discreet persons for the bringing
to perfection of this delightful beverage, was thought by
both our friends a sufficient period of delay. And now the
proud moment had arrived when the tea was actually a
fait accompli, and when there was nothing more to be done
but to drink it. Of course Mr. Pinchbold's first act was
to scald his mouth severely, and thereby to deprive himself
of the organ of taste for many days to come ; a misfortune,
however, which did not prevent the worthy gentleman from
asserting that such a cup of tea as that he defied China itself
"to produce ; and that those who would really know what
tea was like must make it with an Etna by the side of the
SUCCESS.
119
road, and drink it with the skj above their heads, and the
green fields around them.
And truly that meal—if a cup of tea may be so called—>
partaken of by the two friends, was a more enjoyable feast
than many on which sovereigns have been laid out, where
this had cost sous. There is something about a meal,
whether on a large or small scale, besides mere eating and
drinking ; something besides good food and drink, and even
something besides appetite is required for its enjoyment.
To begin with, there must be peace between those who share
it. There is a strange linking together of the hearts of
those who eat and drink together; the act of eating and
drinking being altogether mixed up with this sensation, and
necessary to it. The same group of friends assembled round
the same table, with nothing on it, would never feel so
cordially towards each other as they do when partaking of
the same dish. How completely, too, is this proved by
considering the reverse of the case. When is any  un-
pleasantness felt to be so distressing as at meal-times?
When is the presence of one whom we dislike felt to be so
oppressive and disturbing ?
So the meal partaken of by our two travellers was to each
of them in every way delightful. The silence and the
solitude of the place was complete and utter ; no sound but
the singing of the birds and the chirping of the grasshopper
was audible; no living thing was to be seen but a few
cattle grazing at a distance, and the companion of their
journey, the unfortunate, but docile Bijou. Unhappily,
here lay the stumbling-block to their full enjoyment; here
was the inevitable bitter ingredient, the one defect in the
scheme of a journey otherwise so completely enjoyable.
There was no doubt about her lameness, no doubt that it
was a confirmed and serious disease, no doubt that she
was unfitted for their journey, and but little—though this
they could not know yet—that her restoration to health, if
possible, would involve a greater sacrifice of time than it
would be possible for the two travellers to make. It has
120
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
been said elsewhere that Mr. Fudge was an economist, and
it has been hinted that neither he nor his friend were in the
possession of much wealth ; but it is only justice to both of
them to say that the certainty of the loss of money which
must ensue, owing to the unsoundness of the animal, which
was their joint property, had little share, if any, in the
distress which that unsoundness caused them. What they
felt was the loss of Bijou herself, of the horse by whose aid
the journey had been commenced, the loss of a faithful ally,
to whom, because she was so good and docile, they had both
got to be much attached.
From the time when the tea-equipage was once again
consigned to its basket, and the carriole was once more set
in motion, there occurred little worthy of record till when,
late in the afternoon, they arrived at Doullens. It was
true that Mr. Pinchbold experienced a considerable panic,
at one moment, from the sight of a figure in the garb of a
priest, which they saw walking along in front of them, and
which Mr. P. took it into his head was no other than the
dreaded priest of St. Pol; but it proved to be quite another
person when they overtook him, one of those country
curates who reside in the villages of France, and who do a
world of good, and win a vast deal of love from the flocks
who are under their care. This priest was quite a simple-
looking personage, and pulled his broad-brimmed hat quite
off his head to the two Englishmen as they passed him, a
salute which they were not slow to return.
There is no one who has not engaged in a journey
in some sort akin to that on which our two English-
men had entered, who can fully sympathize with the eager
curiosity with which they regarded the entry of a new town,
or, still more, the anxiety with which they scrutinized the
outside of the inn at which they were to put up for the
night. The exterior of the  Quatre Fils d'Aymon was
certainly not in its favour. It stood in a row of shabby
houses, and looked itself the shabbiest, and, what was worse,
the dirtiest of them all. They had, however, been recom-
THE FOUR SONS OF AYMON.
121
mended here, and if they sought some other inn they
might fare worse. So, after some slight misgiving, they
drove through the narrow gateway that gave access to the
dirtiest and most piggish yard that ever was seen; Mr.
Pinchbold making the customary remark, as they passed
within the shadow of the walls, that he  felt a presentiment
that they would have their throats cut.
The hostelry of the Pour Sons of Aymon was certainly
the most debased which our travellers had yet had to do
with. The entrance to the inn was by the kitchen, and
when once you found yourself in this apartment, you felt
some doubt as to where you were to go next, till perceiving
at last a small door in one corner of the room, you pushed
it open at a venture, and found yourself in a little dark sort
of parlour with a window which gave a view of the stable-
yard, and admitted, though it had never been opened since
it was constructed, a powerful flavour of manure. This
was the salle-a-manger, and here, at half-past six, the
dinner was served, and those persons who happened to be
in the house at the time, sat down together to partake of it.
It was at this meal that our two friends were first brought
in contact with a class, of which subsequently they were
destined to see a great deal—the commis-voyageurs, or
commercial travellers of France. Indeed, in the more out-
of-the-way parts of France, the inns seem altogether sup-
ported by these gentry, and they are consequently able to
take quite a high tone with the subordinates, and to lord it
over them grandly enough. There were two specimens of
this tribe at present lodged at the Quatre Fils d'Aymon,
both, to judge from their physiognomies, being of the
Hebrew persuasion, and both very polite, very familiar,
very happy, and very boastful, and very much inclined to
talk at our two travellers. The landlord himself, a dismal,
oldish, taciturn man, whom Mr. Pinchbold pronounced to
have a very dangerous aspect, was the only other person at
table, and proved a wet-blanket of the most swampy des-
cription. On his removal, however, the tongues of the
1*8
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS,
■Jewish gentlemen were unloosed, and beginning with a
systematic attack on the dinner, of which they had just
partaken voraciously, they went on to other matters, and
chatted away glibly enough.
"Peastly soup, said the elder and principal man of the
two—there seems always a chief and a subordinate when
two friends are seen by a stranger in company.  Peastly
soup, he remarked again, if we may be allowed to para-
phrase his conversation and that of his friend as a liberal
translation of the French original.
 Peastly dinner altogether, was the friend's answer,
helping himself to a peculiar kind of sponge-cake, which
forms the staple commodity of the inn-desserts all over
France.
 Peastly wine, too, continued the first speaker, taking
up a tumbler quite full of the beverage in question and
.setting it down empty.
 Never get good vine at these country inns, said No. %.
 Good vine at the Hotel du Rhin, at Amiens, remarked
No. 1, again.
 Make you pay for it, too, don't they ? said his friend:;
"He, he, he I".
 Ah, replied the first speaker, holding his glass up to
the light,  Paris is the place for vinsh—remember that
dinner M. St. Lazare gave ush at the ' Trois Fxeres V My
gootness, vot a dinner !
 How much do you think it cost, now? asked the other.
 Hundred and fifty francs, if it cost a centime.
 No, no, not so much as that.
 Yot do you mean ? St. Lazare don't mind money.
Look at the truffles, the champagne, the burgundy. Hundred
and fifty, depend upon it.
 How do you like the ' Trois Freres ?'  asked the
inferior Hebrew.
 Oh, pretty well—not so good as Philippe's.
 Done much business here to-day ? inquired the satel-
lite, changing the subject abruptly.
FRENCH  GENTS.
123
 Not much; business very dull everywhere, said
No. 1.
"Been up there? asked the friend, indieating some
route known commercially to his ally, by a jerk of the
thumb.
 Up where ? inquired the other, irritably.
 Oh, you know.
 Oh yes—and I'll just tell you what I said—I said
there had been nothing doing now for the last three times
I'd been round this way, and that if there wasn't some-
thing—and something handsome too—next time, I'd never
go that way again.
Such was the kind of conversation to which our two
friends were made privy. It will, though only a small
specimen of a dialogue that lasted for a considerable period,
serve to convey one important fact to the reader, namely,
that the tribe known by the name of  gent, is not un-
represented on the other side of the Channel. Mr. Pinch-
bold, Avho, as he mentioned to his companion, was always
anxious to make friends in the house, in case of a night
attack on the part of the innkeeper, found this quite a
difficult dialogue to join in. He managed, however, about
this time to take advantage of an allusion to the recently
concluded Treaty of Commerce, and was out of his depth
in no time.
The two Jewish gentlemen were grandly patronizing and
kind in their expressions with regard to the benefits likely
to accrue to England from this new arrangement. The
English would now have an opportunity of tasting French
wines for the first time, instead of living, as heretofore, on
■the sherry-vine, the Portoporto, and the visky-gin, which
were their sole drinks, rendered necessary, however, in a
climate where sunshine and blue sky were two unknown
things.
Mr. Fudge, remarking ironically that perhaps the Treaty
concluded with France might lead to the importing into our
benighted island of some amount of these two last-named
124.
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
advantages, rose to leave the table; and so this interesting
conversation came to an end.
There was not much worthy of note in the town of
Doull'ens. A great heap of fortifications was gathered
together in a place by itself, on an eminence overhanging
the town, looking as if it had retired to this spot to keep
its eye upon the place, and hold it in check.
Mr. Pinchbold describes his bedroom at the Quatre Fils
d'Aymon as a sort of loft at the end of a long passage.
He further states, that the loft was completely filled and
choked up with lumber of every conceivable kind. The
bed itself, being so much like the rest of the lumber, that
it was only possible to know that it was placed there in
any other capacity because the extreme dampness of the
sheets showed that they had only just been put on. The
lumber, however, was very serviceable for purposes of
barricade, which causes Mr. Pinchbold to remark that
there is some good in almost everything. Mr. P. subjoins a
sketch of the hot-water-jug, from which it appears that it
was very little larger than an extinguisher which happened
to be placed in immediate contact with this vessel.
Neither Mr. Fudge nor his companion were sorry to take
leave of their surly host of Les Quatre Fils d'Aymon. It
was a beautiful bright morning when they started, and as
they drove across the bridge over the little rivulet that
dances past the town, and under the walls of the fortress—
which contains, by the bye, a prison for criminal women—
they felt that but for Bijou's lameness they would be the
happiest travellers that ever walked up a hill. The lame-
ness of Bijou was now a confirmed thing, and so distressing,
that it seemed almost doubtful whether they would be able
to get her even to Amiens. The night's rest seemed
rather to have developed than decreased the poor creature's
malady.
There is no person but one who has sat for two or three
consecutive days behind a lame horse, and that horse a
white one, who can form any notion of the depressing effect
AN UNACCOUNTABLE BOY.
125
of the spectacle presented to the eyes of the driver of such
an animal. The reader will perhaps ask why a white lame
horse is worse than a black lame horse ? The answer to
which is, that a pair of white ears bobbing up and down
are more salient and conspicuous than a pair of dark ones.
Those ears are the organs Avhich the driver of a lame horse
is compelled, as by some horrible fascination, to watch.
As for Mr. Fudge, he never took his eyes off those ears of
Bijou's. The miserable dip of that left ear, as the fore foot
on the same side came to the ground, absorbed his whole
attention. It was impossible to look at anything else, or
to think of anything else. The landscape, the people they
met, the buildings by the wayside, were all seen through a
medium of lame horse, which made everything look awry,
ugly, and distorted. Nay, even when he was not driving,
things were not much better. The day's occupation
affected his repose, and those white ears bobbed up and
down before him even when seated at dinner, or taking
refuge in his bed at night. What an appearance, too,
must they present to strangers; how contemptible must
they look to those who met them on the road. Indifferent
to the opinion of the world as a man may be on many
subjects, he will scarcely be so with regard to the horse he
is driving. Mr. Fudge was peculiarly sensitive on this
subject. The praises which Bijou's beauty had Avon for
her at the different places they had stopped at had given
him the most unfeigned gratification, and he would uoav,
at sight of any approaching vehicle, pull the mare up if she
happened to be trotting, and walk her past it, for Bijou's
infirmity only appeared Avhen she trotted, and did not as
yet show itself in her walk.
 Do you see that boy ? said Mr. Pinchbold, Avhose
eyes had not been so exclusively occupied as his com-
panion's.
 I see nothing, replied Mr. Fudge,  but Bijou's ears.
I see, however, now you mention it, a boy running by the
road-side; but Avhat of that ?
126
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS*
There was, in fact, and had been now for some time, a
boy running along by their side. He was a ragged little
chap, whose costume appeared to consist of half a shirt—
dirty—three-quarters of a pair of trousers and one brace,,
nothing on his feet, nothing on his head. The remarkable
part about this boy was, that he seemed to have attached
himself to the carriole. For some time he would run along
by the side of it, then he would gallop madly ahead and
look back. Then he would let them overtake him, and
pass by him, when they would lose sight of him for some
minutes. He would reappear, however, trotting along the
footpath, and presently would again shoot forward and run
on before them, not looking where he was going, but back
over his shoulder into the interior of the carriole. The
carriole would again overtake and pass him, and he would
be again lost to sight.
 This is very horrible, said Mr. Pinchbold.  This,
repeated that gentleman,  in the middle of the open
country, and far removed from any human habitation, is
very horrible.
 Why, said Mr. Fudge, "you are not afraid of the
boy, surely?
"No, answered Mr. Pinchbold, proudly; "but I am
convinced that that boy represents some unseen agency
bent upon our destruction.
 But what agency ? asked Mr. Fudge.
"I don't know, replied Mr. Pinchbold;  would that I
did; but some,hidden agency he represents.
The boy was now out of sight, for the hood of the car-
riole rendered invisible all objects but those in front of the
travellers. Mr. Fudge had forgotten all about the boy,
and was gazing, as usual, at Bijou's ears, when Mr. Pinch-
bold once more demanded his attention.
 Fudge, said that gentleman,  would you mind stop-
ping?
"What for? asked Mr. Fudge, rather hastily.
MOUE UNACCOUNTABLE BOYS.
127
u I am convinced, said Mr. Pinchbold,  tliat that boy
is doing some horrible thing to the carriole. I have looked
through the pane of glass behind, and the window at the
side, but I can see nothing of him, and therefore, very
reluctantly, I must ask you to stop, that I may get down,
and look after him.
 Eeally, Pinchbold, said Mr. Fudge, somewhat irritably,.
 this is too much. A little tAvopenny-halfpenny boy like
that to arrest us in our journey—the thing would be really
too ridiculous. Come, he continued,  dismiss the boy
altogether from your mind.
 My dear Fudge, said Mr. Pinchbold, solemnly,  the
thing is impossible. I am persuaded that that boy is now
engaged in loosening some screw at the back of the carriole,
or in abstracting some lynch-pin, or engaged in some other
devilish mischief, that we shall repent of if we don't look
after him.
Mr. Fudge could not help laughing at his friend's
earnestness, but his momentary irritability was over, and
he pulled the mare up without further entreaty.
Mr. Pinchbold descended from the vehicle with elaborate
caution, and made the circuit of the carriole in a stealthy
manner; then he looked underneath it, and finally, retiring
to a short distance, he surveyed the top. All these varied
forms of scrutiny having failed, he extended his researches
to a somewhat wider field, and, standing on the step of the
carriole, surveyed the country around with a small telescope
which was his constant companion. He was just returning
this instrument to his pocket, when he became suddenly
conscious once more of the presence of the youthful object
of his anxiety. The boy was standing, with his hands in
his pockets, gazing steadily up into a tree that grew by the
road-side.
 Hallo, boy, shouted Mr. Pinchbold, speaking, how-
ever, in French.
The singular individual thus addressed 'did not utter a
128
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
single word in reply, but set off at the top of his speed,
running once more in the direction in which the travellers
were going.
 Are you satisfied now, and may we go on ? asked Mr.
Fudge, a little maliciously.
"We will go on by all means, Fudge, if you wish it,
but I am very far from being satisfied, was Mr. Pinch-
hold's answer.
The carriole was once more put in motion, but it was
not long before Mr. Pinchbold spoke again.
 Why, bless my life and soul, he said,  here are
other boys, and the first boy is in communication with
them.
It was true enough. There appeared to be stations along
the road at which boys were picketed, and the bare-legged
boy would run from one to another along this mysterious
line, would hold a brief conference with each, and then
hasten on to the next; the boy conferred with instantly
leaving his post and galloping off as fast as his legs would
carry him.
Now certainly all this was very strange and mysterious.
Strange and mysterious, however, it was and is destined to
remain. The travellers were now ascending a long hill, and
as Mr. Pinchbold watched with eager anxiety the movements
of his young friend, he saw him execute the following
manoeuvres. He ran on ahead to a considerable distance,
suddenly paused, tucked up his trousers above his knees,
hopped on one leg, and finally disappeared over the brow of
the hill. When the two travellers reached the top of that
eminence, the boy was nowhere to be seen. A strange
crowing sound was, however, heard in the distance, and as
it could be attributable to no lungs of bird or animal known
to zoologists, Mr. Pinchbold at once attributed it to the
mystic boy, and construing it into a signal to be interpreted
by the unknown agencies of whom the boy was the emis-
sary, gave himself up for lost.
The line of apple-trees which extended along each side
EARTH-EATING.
129
of the road which the travellers were pursuing, and the
imperfectly ripe fruit of which may or may not have had
some share in the presence of the company of boys which
had so disturbed Mr. Pinchbold's peace of mind; this line
of apple-trees (miles long) now gave place to a few houses
indicating the presence of a village. The distance from
Doullens to Amiens was very short, but Bijou's lameness
was now so confirmed and serious an impediment to their
progress that it was determined to give her a rest and a
feed of corn at this village, in order to give her a better
chance of reaching Amiens, for even the attainment of this
early stage in their journey was now becoming a doubtful
matter in the minds of our two disconsolate travellers. The
mare was taken out then and put up in the stables of a
small auberge which stood by the roadside, and Mr. Fudge
and his friend amused themselves, as they had no need of
refreshment, with a walk through the village.
A little horse in an enormous cart, and clothed in such
gigantic harness that it looked like a child with its father's
clothes on, the shafts especially having something of the
aspect of a pair of huge shirt-collars: this is the first thing
we find noted with an illustrative sketch in Mr. Pinchbold's
diary. His next remarks bear reference to a discovery of
a new propensity in Bijou, which is so remarkable that we
will give it in his own words.
 On returning to the stable, writes Mr. Pinchbold,
 we found that Bijou, whom we had left in a stall next
the wall of the building, had been removed to one which
occupied the central place in the stable. While we were
speculating as to the probable reason of this change having
been made in her quarters, the owner of the place entered,
and asked us if we were aware that our horse belonged to
the tribe of the Earth-eaters. We hastened to deny all
knoAvledge of the existence even of so tremendous a race of
creatures; upon which we were informed that it was by no
means a thing unheard of for a horse to manifest a liking
for the walls of its stable if they happened to be of earth
K
130
A CltUISE UPON WHEELS.
instead of brick and- stone, and that this taste had unques-
tionably been shown by Bijou, a fact of which ocular proof
was given in the shape of certain recently scraped holes in
the wall close to which Bijou had been standing. We con-
gratulated the owner of the house on his good fortune in
having made this discovery before the whole stable was
eaten up, and became very jocose on the subject of the
precaution which it would be necessary to take in future
to prevent this eccentric animal from eating herself literally
out of house and home.
 But how humiliating, Mr. Pinchbold goes on to say,
 to be compelled in future, as surely will be our duty, to
caution the authorities at those inns where we make a
temporary stay that they must on no account place this
unhappy quadruped next to the wall of the stable, lest the
whole building should disappear in the course of the night
before her insatiate appetite. How dangerous, too, to sit
behind such an animal. May we not expect some day, if
it should be our lot to pass through a ploughed field, that
she would become frantic at the sight of her favourite food;
and, deserting the road, will establish herself where it is
found in such abundance, declining to return any more to
the regions of oats and civilization.
The short journey from the resting-place where Bijou's
earth-eating propensities were discovered, to Amiens, was
by no means accomplished in a short time. It was a hot
afternoon, and the road was a very straight one; the pace
was very slow, and a lethargy of the most profound descrip-
tion descended upon the two travellers as they jogged along,
Mr. Fudge especially being overcome with such torpor that
he was obliged to lie back in his seat and drive with one
eye open at a time.
At last there became discernible, at a considerable dis-
tance in front of them, an object lying near the horizon,
which at once aroused the interest and dispelled the lethargy
of both our travellers. It is curious how, in the midst of
the huge natural features which make up a landscape, any-
OLD AND NEW WONDERS.
131
thing that men's hands have raised is always so distinct
and so conspicuous. There was a curious abruptness
about that dark, square-looking lump, at which Mr. Fudge
and his friend were gazing, which made it singularly
noticeable and conspicuous. Certainly the architect who
built the cathedral of Amiens set a mark upon the earth
which men are little likely to overlook.
 It looks very grand and lowering there in the distance,
said Mr. Pinchbold.
 What an extraordinary difference there is between the
marvels of this age and those of the old times, Mr. Fudge
answered.  The wonders of this age seem chiefly great in
an immaterial sense, and are little characterized by outward
splendour or magnificence. Look at those telegraph poles,
be continued, pointing to a row of them that lined the rail-
road near which they were travelling;  look at those bare
poles that carry the magic wires, and then at the cathedral
of Amiens, and consider which is the most imposing ; yet
which is the greatest wonder ?
It was nearly two hours after they had first caught sight
of the cathedral of Amiens that, as a romancer would say,
 a vehicle of the kind used in the north of France for
short journeys, and drawn by a stout white mare of the
country, was seen wending slowly along the streets of
Amiens. Slowly, indeed ; it seemed to both our friends,
as if they would really never get to their destination; and
if the Hotel de l'Ecu had been half a mile further off than
it really was, it appeared as if that additional distance would
have been more than poor Bijou's powers could have mas-
tered. Dusty, despondent, hot, and tired, they limped
along the smart streets of flourishing Amiens; and as at
length the two travellers descended in the stableyard of
the excellent hotel just mentioned, they both felt that the
further continuance of their cruise was a doubtful affair at
best, and that, at any rate, they must depend for their
means of progression on something more secure than the
failing limbs of  la Perle de Malaise.
k 2
132
CHAPTER VIII.
a short chapter, in which the travellers are fairly
aground, and in the course of which this true history
has a very narrow escape of coming to an untimely
end.
The stay of our travellers at Amiens was destined to be a
longer one than they had anticipated. Of course, the first
thing to be done on the morning after their arrival was to
consult all sorts of authorities on the subject of Bijou's
lameness. The master of the hotel, a brisk young man,
whose life was passed in the stables, the numerous staff of
grooms and helpers, and finally a veterinary surgeon, all
pronounced their opinions with great confidence ; and all,
though varying slightly as to particulars, were of accord
that her disease was a disease of the hoof, that it was a very
serious one, and that its cure, if it could be effected at all—
a doubtful point—would, at any rate, be a very long and
tedious affair.
A little, almost invisible, vertical crack on the hoof of
the near fore-leg, and certain annulated lines, faintly marked
in its circumference, were all the external evidences of
Bijou's unsoundness of which the eye could take note. Yet
in this hoof the mischief lay; and from these small indica-
tions the learned in such matters gathered that the hoof was
utterly unsound, and that the following course of treat-
ment would be necessary for its cure. In the first place, it
would be necessary to remove her shoes, and relieve the
heat and inflammatory symptoms by bleeding; it would be
necessary to keep her off the road for six months ; and, at
PROFESSIONAL OPINIONS.
133
the same time, that she might not be without exercise, she
must be employed in agricultural work, treading on soft
ground, and moving through ploughed fields, where her
tender feet would not be subjected to the succession ot
shocks which they encountered every time they came in
contact with the paved roads of France.
 In short, said the veterinary surgeon, after concluding
his examination,  if you have any estate in the country,
any farm under your control, I should recommend you to
have the mare removed there without delay, and put
through the course of treatment which I have indicated;
but, if not, I think your best plan would be to get rid of
the animal at once, and to make up your mind to a certain
amount of loss, which is inevitable.
The gentleman who thus spoke was a very different kind
of personage from M. Morve of Malaise. He spoke freely,
and to the point, and gave you the impression that you
might really place some reliance on the opinion which he
gave.
 And is there no means, inquired Mr. Fudge, after
listening to the opinion which has just been quoted ;  is
there no possibility, by medical treatment, and by allowing
a short time for rest, of fitting the mare to go on with her
journey ?
 She would break down again, sir, was the answer,
 before she had been two hours in the shafts.
 And how long do you conceive it would take to re -
establish her, and fit her once more for work ?
 It would take at least six months.
 During which time I should have to pay for her keep,
as well as to remunerate you for your medical superin-
tendence V
u Both Avould, unfortunately, be necessary.
<■<■ And what should you conscientiously recommend me
to do ?
 I should recommend you, as I have said before, to
remember that the first loss, in these cases, is always the
134
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
least, that it is ill to throw good money after bad, and that,,
in short, you will do best to sell her at once, and for what
she will fetch.
The next question now of the many which were impor-
tunate for answers was, whether the law gave any remedy
to persons in the position of our two Englishmen ? There
are certain defects, called in the law language of France des
vices redhibitoires, the existence of which, in a horse that
has been sold for sound, are considered to vitiate the
contract, and make it null and void. Intermittent lame-
ness, proceeding from some chronic malady, is naturally
enough included among these; but, unfortunately, the
process of accusation must be commenced within nine days-
of the purchase of the animal. It was on the sixth day
after the travellers had left Malaise that the consultation at
Amiens took place ; and Bijou had been four days in M..
Dessin's stables the property of Messrs. Fudge and Pinch-
bold, before the journey was commenced at all. The delay,
then, granted by the law had already expired, without
counting the time that it would take to convey the mare
back to Malaise. There was nothing, then, to be expected
as regarded legal assistance in this difficulty. M. Grisois had
got the money safe in his pocket, and had got rid of an
unsound horse; and M. Morve—what of him ?
This Avas the next question. Had this worthy gentle-
man, Avhen employed by Mr. Fudge to examine the mare in
his interests, had he known of the defect which had since
been developed in such terrible force ? Had he made
common cause Avith Grisois, and been paid by him to
pronounce an unsound animal free from all defect in Avind
and limb ?
Strangely enough there actually did appear to be some-
shadow of a doubt, though but a shadoAv, on this point.
The landlord of the hotel, a man who Avas thoroughly up to-
everything connected with horses, and Avho had jrronounced
exactly the same opinion with regard to Bijou's lameness-
which had subsequently been given by the medical
TAKEN IN.
135
authority—the landlord of the hotel was distinctly of
opinion that M. Morve must have known all about it, and
he was backed by his groom and a whole yardfull of
assistants and amateurs. The veterinary gentleman, how-
sver, gave it—though very hesitatingly—as his opinion
that it was just possible that the defect under which the
mare was suffering might not have existed in such force as
to be noticeable at the time of her examination, and that it
had been developed since by the severe test to which her
powers had been put in the course of the long journey from
Malaise to Amiens. The veterinary gentleman backed
himself up in this opinion by reverting to the fact that when
the two travellers had tried the mare at Malaise she gave
no signs of lameness, either when they went out in company
with M. Grisois, or still more on a subsequent occasion,
when after they had concluded the purchase they took her
out in a carriage belonging to M. Dessin, and drove her
upwards of twenty miles at a stretch, a proceeding with a
description of which it was not needful at the time to
trouble the reader, and which need only be alluded to in
this its proper place in the few words devoted to it above.
With all that might be said by the veterinary gentleman
in defence of M. Morve, it must be owned that not the
slightest doubt remained on the minds of either Mr. Fudge
or Mr. Pinchbold, on the subject of his treachery. The
veterinary gentleman would naturally say all that he could
for a member of his own fraternity, a circumstance which
diminished somewhat the value of his testimony on this
branch of the subject. Mr. Fudge remembered the meeting
with M. Morve so near the abode of Grisois, and so imme-
diately after the expression of opinion which had led to the
purchase of the mare; he remembered, too, the impression
left generally on his mind by the appearance and behaviour
of the great Morve; and he doubted, or rather he did not
doubt, but altogether mistrusted the integrity of that gen-
tleman's conduct. As he and Mr. Pinchbold now talked
the whole affair over, they even went the length of mixing
136
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
M. Porquet up in this iniquitous transaction. His anxiety
to make them buy the mare, his shuffling conduct about his
own horses, and his obvious unwillingness to afford them
any facilities for trying any one of them, all these things it
must be acknowledged had rather a sinister look, and taken
with the fact that Grisois owned to having originally had
Bijou from M. Porquet, seemed to point at the probability
of there being some profit to accrue to that mysterious gen-
tleman from the sale of  la Perle de Malaise.
And now what was to be done ? To attempt any patch-
ing up of Bijou's lameness, to charge themselves with the
long and expensive cure, the necessity of which had been
urged by every one who had been consulted about her,
would, besides its costliness and uncertain issue, have been
a course attended with a delay in their journey of no shorter
a period than six months. They would have, if adopting
this plan, to leave the mare behind them and go back to
England, with the prospect of returning in the spring to
continue that Cruise upon Wheels which had met with so
disastrous an interruption. Surely with all the uncertainties
of life, with the knowledge that so many things might occur
in six months to frustrate their plans, this would be a most
preposterous course. It was not to be thought of. Think
over it as they might, twist it and turn it this way and that
way as much as they would, to one conclusion, alas, they
were ever obliged to return !
They must part with Bijou.
Now this was a great blow, to estimate the full
severity of which it is necessary that the reader should
remember first, the trouble which Messrs. Fudge and
Pinchbold had had in getting her, and secondly, the singular
suitableness of the animal herself to their purpose in all
respects, saving and excepting this one terrible and fatal
defect of lameness. By Mr. Fudge especially, the loss of
Bijou was viewed almost in the light of a misfortune, for he
had got ouite an affection for the poor beast in consequence
of her docility, her good temper, and other valuable qualities.
AGROUND.
137
The blow, though rather a heavy one, had however fallen,
and it was no use to eomplain.
And now that this question was decided, there still re-
mained a great deal to be settled yet. Was this impediment
which had come in the way of their project to be considered
final? Was the journey, which, in the matter of actual
progression, had been an affair of four days only, to come to
an end at that early stage ? The journey, so long thought
over, so fondly dwelt on in imagination, the journey, so
delightful as it had proved, exceeding the most sanguine
anticipations which either of the travellers had formed of its
enjoyableness, was it to be cut short at its commencement ?
The journey that had Switzerland for its goal, the base of
the Alps for its glorious termination, was it to come suddenly
to a termination at the end of a four days' drive, a drive from
Malaise to Amiens ?
These were some of the questions which agitated the
minds of our two unfortunate friends, during the course of
the day which sealed the fate of Bijou. The conclusion of
that day left them still undecided on the subject, Mr. Pinch-
bold being, on the whole, disposed to abandon the project,
and even going the length of intimating that  he had a pre-
sentiment that if they made any further attempt to get to
their journey's end, some dread disaster would overtake
them. Mr. Pudge, though a little dashed, it must be owned,
was still not prepared to abandon their original intention so
readily, in addition to which, it must be confessed, that his
faith in Mr. Pinclibold's  presentiments was not so strong
as to give those forebodings a powerful influence in deter-
mining the nature of his conduct.
It is astonishing how much the period of the day and the
state of the weather have to do with the views we take of
our affairs. When Mr. Pinchbold woke the next morning
after enjoying a good night's rest, when he demolished his
barricades, and throwing open the window let in the bright
sunshine and the fresh air, he took so different a view of
the question of the preceding day, that he was fain to go
138
A CRUISE XrP03ST WHEELS.
and tap at Mr. Fudge's door, and to impart to that gentle-
man his opinion that to give up their project at so early a
stage and at the first serious obstacle, would be a dastardly
act, and would expose them at once to their own self-
reproach, and to the ridicule of those friends whom they
had acquainted by letter with their intention of driving all
the way to Geneva in a carriole.
 The fact is, said Mr. Pinchbold, in conclusion,  I
have mentioned what we had in contemplation to one or
two of my clients, to whom I happened to be writing before
leaving Malaise, and as they are friends as well as clients, I
shouldn't like them to laugh at us.
Poor Mr. Pinchbold ! If all the laughter they had to
encounter was to come from the throats of that gentleman's
clients, they would not have much to fear.
Of course Mr. Fudge hailed with joy this change in his
friend's views on the subject of the journey, and it was
agreed that directly after breakfast they should turn their
attention to the important work of providing a successor to
the unfortunate Bijou. The first step necessary was to
find out the chief horsedealer in the town, and this having
been effected, our friends set off on a fine sunny morning to
visit this gentleman's premises and inspect his stock.
With this proceeding recommenced a series of transac-
tions, all so closely resembling what had taken place at
Malaise, that they do not call for much especial description.
Once more they had to execute long promenades down
vistas of whisking tails in the stables of suspicious-looking
dealers. Once more they felt that every separate animal
they passed was simply a bundle of concealed defect and
vice. Once more they had horses brought out of stables,
which they examined and tried, and which they felt neither
examination nor trial revealed in their true colours. Qnoe
more they were introduced to some specially ill-looking
beast, and informed that it was the favourite playfellow of
the owner's children, that it was habitually driven by his
wife, that it walked into the kitchen to solicit bits of sugar,
NEW ATTEMPTS.
139
that it was afraid of nothing, that you might beat a drum
upon its head; that you might fire pistols off about its ears,
and dance a hornpipe upon its back. Once more they
were introduced to animals Avith conspicuous vertebra, with
limp ears, with pendant lips, with swollen limbs, bearing the
gridiron-like impression of occasional firings, with wall eyes,
and every other conceivable and inconceivable defect.
It was a weary time this that they passed at Amiens.
Many were the horses tried during that five or six days—
many were the transactions almost concluded, but broken
off at the last moment for excellent reasons, many Avere the
hours of Aveariness, ennui, and desperation. There was,,
however, one source of amusement connected with the
place, on which they dreAV largely, and which never failed
to interest them.
Staying in the same hotel with our two travellers Avas a
certain little dapper and fiery General, concerning whom
the whole town Avas in a great state of excitement, and
who was temporarily quite the hero of the place. He
had come upon some mission of examining and reviewing
the troops stationed in the toAvn, and every day a little
staff of officers used to come in the afternoon to fetch him
and escort him through the streets in triumph to the
barracks. This Avas the event of the day for the whole
town, and not less so for our tAvo Englishmen. There
never was such a fussification as took place invariably
at the moment of the General's issuing from the hotel.
There never Avere such a set of unmanageable horses as
those on Avhich the members of the suite Avere mounted;
there never Avere such clattering of hoofs, such prancings,
and such neighings. The General had a little Avhite Arab
horse of great spirit and beauty, Avhich used to be arrayed
in such marvellous trappings and such gorgeous housings,
that it looked almost as fine as an Astley's Avar-horse and
almost as unreal. Unfortunately, hoAvever, it Avas not quite
so successfully trained as its prototype of the Circus, and
this its sole defect invariably shoA\red itself, unfortunately,
140 A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
always at the exact moment when its gallant owner wanted
to get upon its back. Nothing would induce the Arab
steed to approach the magnificent and glittering person of
its proprietor. The fact was, that what with feathers,
what with gold lace, what with orders and equipments,
with buckles, weapons, and accoutrement?; the little
General was such a blazing object as he stood upon the
mounting-block waiting for his charger, that it was not
wonderful that this animal should, when called upon to
approach this brilliant mass of colour and metal, execute
a series of the most terrific  shies ever performed by any
member of its tribe. There was no inducing it to approach
the mounting-block. The grooms and assistants who had
the spirited little beast in charge were dragged hither and
thither by it—dragged everywhere, in short, but in the
direction where the distinguished officer was standing
waiting for his horse. As soon as he had stood there till
his patience was exhausted, the General would jump down,
and, since his horse would not go to him, would make the
most tremendous efforts to go to his horse. But this plan
was not attended with any success. If the General advanced
boldly across the yard, the little Arab would turn round and
fairly bolt, carrying with him a whole tribe of grooms and
hangers-on, and scattering confusion in all directions;
while if this gallant officer, as he would in desperation do
at last, consented to have recourse to stratagem, and
approached his charger by a circuitous route from behind,
it would invariably happen that just as he had reached the
animal's side, some tassel, or tag, or belt, or other caparison
of the General's, would wave, or flap, or whisk within
range of a backward glance on the part of the little Arab,
and off he would dart—sometimes with the General holding
on to its mane and trying to vault upon its back (a feat, by
the bye, often performed in novels, but seldom in real life)
—sometimes with the General hopping after it, with one
foot entangled in the stirrup, to the loss of all dignity then
and ever afterwards.
THE GENERAL.
141
This scene, made additionally stimulating by the kickings
and prancings of all the horses ridden by the staff, which
were engaged by their proprietors in insane attempts to
dodge the little Arab and bring him to a stand-still, but
which invariably became infected by the Arab's example,
and seeming to regret that they had not also declined to be
mounted by their respective owners, endeavoured to remedy
this oversight by frantic efforts to kick them off now they
were on—this scene, with an accompaniment of screamings,
shoutings, ravings, roarings, and neighings, it was the
especial delight of Messrs. Fudge and Pinchbold to witness
daily from the windows of the hotel. Sometimes it would
terminate in the chasing of the Arab into a corner, where
he was held up against a wall with his nose in pincers till
the General was got upon his back, with no greater misfor-
tune than a crushed leg against the wall; sometimes this
noble officer would consent to stratagem, and would veil
himself from head to foot in a sombre cloak till he was
fairly mounted, when he could disclose his brilliant presence
in safety, receiving the plumed hat, which he had not
ventured to wear in his disguise, from an attendant; while
sometimes, and after the Arab had learned to see through
the cloak-dodge, it ended in the turbulent animal being
blindfolded with a handkerchief, and so brought unawares
into the presence of the object of its alarm.
Once on horseback, the General seemed to forget all the
trouble and difficulty which had attended the attaining of
that glorious position. Then would the doors of the inn-
yard be thrown open, and rattling, jigging, jolting, and
prancing, the whole party would be disgorged inio the
main street of Amiens. Now the General had seen some
picture or print of Napoleon crossing the Alps, or of some
other great commander leading his troops on to glory, and
he had learnt to form himself on this model. Whether he
considered that to lead his staff of officers through the
streets of Amiens to the barracks was to conduct them to
glory—or whether he was so convinced that glory attended
142
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
bis career, go where he would, that he was conducting his
faithful army in its paths, go where he would—certain, it is
that the General always rode along at the head of his
troops as if he were going to conquer a kingdom or two that
very afternoon, and wreathe around his brows a garland of
immortal renown. At every second step the General
turned round and addressed some order or remark to those
behind him, which it was impossible by reason of the
clatter and noise that they could hear ; then he would point
on in front to the contest that awaited them, or beckon his
flagging followers to renewed exertions.
The spectacle of the little General curvetting and dancing
up the street as he led his troops on to glory was, then, to
the whole town of Amiens a sight of ever new and unflagging
interest; while with our two Englishmen it was so favourite
an exhibition that they never missed a single repetition of
it, and that Mr. Pinchbold was even induced to attempt to
commemorate with his pencil the awful impressiveness of
the scene.
The two friends spent five days at Amiens, nearly the
whole of which time was taken up with fruitless attempts
to provide a substitute for La Perle de Malaise. At the
end of that time, however, they seemed no nearer to the
attainment of their object than they were at the beginning.
Possibly there really was not an animal to be had in the
town suitable to their purpose; possibly their recent failure
had made them morbidly mistrustful and hard to please;
At all events, so it was; and on the morning of the fifth
day both gentlemen began to entertain serious doubts as to
the possibility of proceeding with their journey. Tired out
with failure and disappointment, they both felt that day
strongly disposed .to sell the carriole as well as Bijou for
what it would fetch, and abandon the idea of the journey
then and ever after. The fact is, that their project had
received so severe a check that the whole fabric they had
raised in imagination tottered to its very foundation. The
AN EXPEDIENT.
143
crisis was a severe one, and it seemed very doubtful
whether the patient would get over it.
Great things often depend for their existence on some
very small contingency. Mr. Fudge and his companion
had actually taken the step of going to a carriage-dealer's
shop with the intention of inquiring how much its
proprietors would give for the carriole, when Mr. Pinch-
hold, happening to glance at what was written over the
shop entrance, saw there an announcement which a little
altered the position of affairs, and gave their darling project
one more chance of realization.
It was simply an announcement that the coach-maker
had ware-rooms, in which carriages could be put up for a
small monthly payment.
There never was such a relief as that announcement
afforded to our two Englishmen. By leaving the carriage
with this man, they retained the possibility of recommenc-
ing their journey at any moment—recommencing it next
week—recommencing it next month—recommencing it next
year. It was the very thing. They could now for a time
shake off the continual anxiety on one subject which had
preyed upon them so long that they could scarcely see it
at all in its true colours. They could get away to Paris,
where, perhaps, some new idea would suggest itself, some
new horse might be found, where, in short, something or
other would be sure to turn up.
Everything was now quickly arranged. The coach-
maker was to send for the carriole, and to keep it till
further orders, and certain negotiations which had been
entered into with the principal horsedealer in the place
touching the sale of Bijou were now brought swiftly to a
conclusion—a conclusion, by the bye, which was very far
from profitable to the finances of our two travellers. The
horsedealer's offer, however, was the best that was to be
had, and there was nothing to be done but to make the
best of it.
144
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
It must be owned that the parting with Bijou was rather
a wrench. To Mr. Fudge, especially, who had been more
intimately mixed up with her than his friend, it was more
particularly a great trial to see the last of her. She had
been very good, very patient, and, as far as in her lay, very
serviceable. It was not her fault that she had been sold as
sound with a terrible blemish that made her warranty a
lie. Bijou had done all she could, and as she limped out
of the stable-yard of the Hotel de l'Ecu, Mr. Fudge felt
that their cruise had brought them into troubled waters,
and that it was a chance at best whether they were not in
reality altogether aground.
But if Mr. Fudge felt this at the moment of parting with
Bijou, what were his sensations and those of his companion
when, shortly afterwards, they found themselves seated in a
carriage on the Chemin de Fer du Nord, and with their
faces turned towards Paris. Here was an end to their
adventure ! Here was an inglorious way of proceeding on
their journey! Here was a chance for Mr. Pinchbold's
"clients ! They who had rumbled over drawbridge and
under portcullis in the old French towns, to be whizzing
now out of that most hideous and detestable of all structures
—a station. The contrast was tremendous, and certainly
did not tell in favour of their present mode of travelling.
Both gentlemen were much depressed, and it was not till
they had arrived safely in Paris, and were seated in the
salle-ct-manger of the Hotel du Helder, with an excellent
dinner before them, that they felt any mitigation of the
symptoms of despondency which had become developed in
the course of their journey.
145
CHAPTER IX.
IN WHICH THE TWO FRIENDS ONCE MORE ENGAGE IN A DESPERATE
STRUGGLE TO GET OFF AGAIN, WITH WHAT FINAL RESULT THE
READER MUST STUDY THIS CHAPTER IN ORDER TO ASCERTAIN.
Paris is one of those places which depends for the estima-
tion in which we hold it, to a certain extent, on the state
of health and spirits which we are in, when we walk about
its streets, eat and drink in its cafes, or occupy the benches
of its theatres. If we are in a happy humour, are sur-
rounded with friendly faces, and have plenty of money, it
is a delightful spot; but there are those who have sojourned
in that city when in low spirits, without friends, or hard
up, who have pronounced that it can wear as doleful an air
as any other town.
Our two travellers seemed by one consent to have agreed
to banish the subject of the journey from their minds, as
they certainly did from their conversation. They went
into Paris life as completely as possible. That wondrous
day which can be passed at Paris, and at Paris only; they
did full justice to. They had their cup of coffee, and the
accompanying brioche, before they left their respective
bedrooms; then they wrote letters, or transacted any
business that it was necessary to attend to; then they
read the papers, and sauntered out into the sunshine, bask-
ing along the Boulevard on their way to the Cafe du
Cardinal, where they breakfasted. The dejeuner a la
fourchette over, Mr. Fudge had always some wonderful
point of antiquarian interest which he wished to visit, and
this would lead to some other, involving an immense
L
146
A CRUISE "UPON WHEELS.
amount of poking about in all sorts of intricate boles and
corners, in search of bits of old wall, or fragments of
ancient gateways. Mr. Fudge was never weary of wander-
ing about old Paris, the ancient part about the Temple, the
island of the Cite, the Faubourg St. Germain, the Quais;
all these regions were to him fraught with an enormous
and never-flagging interest. And surely it is a great
question whether it is ever possible to get tired—except
physically—of wandering about the streets of Paris. Of
all the amusements and diversions that Paris has to offer,
those which she gives you for nothing—in allowing you
the run of her streets—are the best and most piquant.
It is a question whether the antiquarian ardour of Mr.
Pinchbold was quite equal to that of his friend and com-
panion. To judge by what he said, you would have come
to the conclusion that it was, but certain furtive yawnings
which, towards the latter part of the afternoon, became
intermingled with his conversation, and certain absent
repetitions of the same questions, seemed to indicate a con-
dition of mental obliteration, which coming on invariably
at about four o'clock p.m., increased with each lengthening
quarter of an hour that intervened between that period just
named and dinner-time.
They used to dine ordinarily at one of those restaurants
which occupy a sort of half-way position between the
ruinous splendour of Vefours and the lower order of
restaurants about the markets. To these last, however,
when one of those fits which would sometimes come upon
Mr. Fudge, causing him to exclaim helplessly,  No income
can stand this! was at its strongest, at such times,
we say, they would descend a little in the social
scale, and take their meal in company with the rich
cattle-owners and farmers who frequent such eating-
establishments as the Pied de Mouton in the Eue du Four
St. Honore, or Baraltes in the Eue aux Fers. Neither of
them places, by the bye, where any man need consider it
a hardship to take his dinner. These same rich drovers
PARIS*
147
and graziers know well what they are . , about. Both the
taverns are near the markets, the meat is fresh, the vege-
tables excellent, and the partridge with a white waistcoat
of bacon, and a couch of fried bread to repose upon, is a
dish than which the united cooks of France and England
may be defied to produce a better. Nor are these gentry
less particular about their wines than about the viands
which they accompany; and there are many flashy restau-
rants in commanding situations, where you will not get so
good a glass of Bordeaux as you will find in the more
humble eating-establishments just named.
Dinner over, our two friends would issue forth once
more. Sometimes, if they had still a leg to stand upon,
for an evening walk along the Boulevards, and through
mazes of lighted passages; sometimes they would betake
themselves to a cafe, or wile the time away with a game
of billiards; while at other times they would constitute
themselves into a Commission of Inquiry concerning the
Present State of the French Drama, and would squeeze
themselves into a couple of stalles d'orchestre at one of the
Boulevard theatres.
Of course, too, on a wet day the Louvre was not always
to be avoided, and here they would wander about observing
the different kind of visitors who frequented that place of
torment, Mr. Pinchbold sometimes making a sketch of any
specially remarkable specimen of character to which his
notice might be attracted.
And yet it came to pass that among all the gaieties and
distractions of Paris—a town in which, as we have said
above, a man may be as wretched as in any other—Mr.
Fudge wore a dissatisfied and gloomy aspect. Nor was
Mr. Pinchbold much happier.
 I cannot stand, said Mr. Fudge one day, u the end-
less rows of French frees which we meet as we walk along
the Boulevard. I never meet with one that looks as if it
was the countenance of a man with a soul. I see no signs
of Pity, of Conscience, or even of Philosophic speculation.
l 2
148
A CltUISE UPON WHEELS.
They are all materialists, young and old; they think of
no other thing besides the gratification of their appetites,
and the acquirement of money. By heavens, Pinchbold !
said Mr. Fudge, suddenly,  have Frenchmen any redeem-
ing qualities ?
"I don't know, I'm sure, returned Mr. Pinchbold;
 they are supposed to be very polite, are they not ?
 It is a politeness of bowing and scraping, and pulling
off of hats. If you put it to the test, if you put gain or
loss of francs in the scale, it vanishes, and the tiger-like
ferocity of the animal comes out in all its native force.
Hang it, they call us a nation of shopkeepers, why, they
are fifty times as much absorbed in the pursuit of business
as we are. I am sick of it all, I am sick of the blazing
shops that nobody ever seems to go into, I am sick of the
swindling restaurants, I am sick of the theatres, where,
though the performance is good enough, you cannot enjoy
it, for the discomfort produced again by their infernal
avarice. Here we go and pay six or seven francs a-piece
for what they call fauteuils d'orchestre, and are half-killed
by squeezing, and by the detestable absence of ventilation,
in which these beggars delight. I always get, too, con-
tinued Mr. F.,  between a fat man who oozes through the
arm of the stall on one side, and a fat woman who pro-
trudes through it on the other, and I always find that the
tallest man in France occupies the seat in front of me.
 Fudge, said Mr. Pinchbold, solemnly,  I have re-
marked of late that you are not happy. How is it ? I am
not enjoying life as keenly as I could wish myself.
 "Well, Pinchbold, replied Mr. Fudge,  it is no use
concealing the thing any longer, I am haunted.
"Haunted! repeated Mr. Pinchbold, turning rather
pale.
"Yes, haunted. Haunted by an idea, by a memory, by
the thought of an enterprise entered on.
"Ha! ejaculated Mr. Pinchbold, perceiving how the
land lay.
HAUNTED.
149
 And abandoned almost as soon as begun. The journey,
Pinchbold ! The journey—the thought of it pursues me.
If it had failed, if it had proved less delightful than we
anticipated, one might have borne its coming to this un-
timely end, but when it was such a glorious success as far
as it went, when all that we hoped from it was more than
carried out, to have given it up like this !
"Don't let's give it up, then ! burst in Mr. Pinchbold,
manfully;  I'm ready to go on with it. I have long felt
my happiness to be bound up in that journey.
"You have long felt your happiness! murmured Mr.
Fudge, aghast.
"Yes, returned Mr. P.; "it cannot be abandoned
like this. It is like sitting down to dinner with a furious
appetite, and being called away directly after the soup. It
is like getting into the interesting part of a novel, and
having (Mr. Pinchbold had an amiable weakness which
induced him always to talk as if he had a practice)  and
having an attorney's boy come in with a brief of import-
ance. It is like 
 Never mind what it is like, said Mr. Fudge,  but tell
me truly—do you really miss the carriole and our life in
connexion with it?
"I do ! replied Mr. Pinchbold, fervently.
 Do you really regret that the journey has been arrested
as it has ?
 I do ! said Mr. P., again.
 And do you really and sincerely wish that we could
go on with it once more ?
 With all my heart and soul! was the reply.
 Then, continued Mr. Fudge, "we will not lose another
moment, but go at it again with all our energies. What a
relief it will be ! Haunted ! ejaculated Mr. Fudge,  why
never was any man so haunted. I never heard the crack
of a whip that did not strike the raw wound in my heart,
left by our mishap with Bijou. I never saw a white horse
without a pang !
150
A CRUISE UPON 'WHEELS.
 I never saw a horse at all without a pang, remarked
Pinchbold.
 How feould we ever think of giving up our project in
this way ? It cannot be. I will write to old Promptjean,
at Amiens, to send the carriole here by railway. I will
send to London for some more money.
 And so will I, cried P.
"And we will try our luck once more among Pari3
horses, and Paris rogues, instead of country ones. And
now, Pinchbold, do you think your powers are equal to
the encounter of all that a horse transaction involves?
Are they equal to the rows of whisking tails, the descrip-
tions of faultless horses, all exactly the same ? Can you
hear again the old story, that the animal we are examining
is afraid of nothing, that it is five years old, that it has
never stumbled, never been down, never shied, never
kicked, never been ill in its life ?
 I think I can, replied Mr. Pinchbold, in a faint tone.
 That it could be driven by a child in arms; that it is
the special favourite of the horse-seller's wife, who feeds it
every morning with lumps of sugar ; that it is to be sold
in consequence of a death; of the owner going to some
foreign land—in consequence of anything but the merest
suspicion of a defect?
"All these things, said Mr. Pinchbold, "I will endea-
vour to bear.
 Then let us start at once, said Mr. Fudge, rising and
putting on his hat,  and not lose another moment in setting
the affair in motion.
And now, indeed, it was not long before our two friends
were once again involved in all the sea of turmoils, doubts,
hesitations, misgivings, hopes and fears, which are the lot
of all those who are engaged in the difficult occupation of
choosing a horse. Day after day did the two travellers go
out in the morning sanguine and energetic, to return in the
evening weary and hopeless, as far from their end as ever.
Over and over again did they abandon the thing as useless,
HAUNTED.
151
and over and over again did they return to the charge,
urged on, it must be owned, by the almost morbid deter-
mination with which Mr. Fudge continued still to cling to
his darling project. It was a miserable time; both of
them, but Mr. Pinchbold especially, lost flesh considerably.
The last-named gentleman, indeed, would at times complain
that he was sure his reason was going, that he was engen-
dering slowly a new kind of madness, a sort of hippophobia.
His meals did him no good; he could look at nothing but
horses in the street; he could read nothing but horse ad-
vertisements in the Journal^ his sleep was broken by the
-appearance of horses' heads floating about in the darkness;
and in his dreams he lived among these dreadful animals a
life of terror and dismay.
The description of one day consumed in these ineffectual
researches will suffice, as well as an account of the eight or
ten which our two friends actually spent in going from one
end of Paris to the other in search of a horse.
It would happen, perhaps, that in the course of breakfast
Mr. Pinchbold, who over night had expressed his conviction
that it was insanity to go on with an undertaking which
the fates had obviously set their faces against—Mr. Pinch-
bold, we say, would suddenly discover, while turning over
the pages of the morning's Steele, that  un bon cheval
Anglais was for sale, and that those whom the advertise-
ment concerned might see the animal at such and such
hours, in such and such a street. Then would this incon-
sistent gentleman suddenly find out that he had a presenti-
ment that the horse which was suited for their purpose,
indeed, which had come into the world with an express eye
to the same, had at length turned up, and that this one
more experiment it was their imperative duty to make.
Then would Mr. Fudge also eye the advertisement to see
if he could extract any hidden information from it. Then
would the two friends begin to speculate about Avhat kind
•of a horse it was that was thus advertised, what colour,
what size, what price; and then it would end in both
152
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
gentlemen rising from the table, putting on their hats, and
setting off full of hope and vigour to the locality indicated
in the newspaper, which was always in some occult and
unknown part of Paris, and always at an immense distance
from the hotel.
Arrived at their destination (after incalculable failures in
finding it) Messrs. Fudge and Pinchbold would be received
by a fashionable coachman in undress, who, on being in-
formed of their errand, would introduce them into a magni-
ficent stable, where they would find a tall highly-groomed,
slender animal, obviously only fitted for town work, and
Avliose daily duties had consisted in drawing, assisted by a
friend, a very small brougham about the streets of Paris for
a couple of hours out of the twenty-four. He was probably
sold, too, from having some defect that rendered him inca-
pable of even so much work as this; and was, as a further
inducement to purchase, offered at the tempting price of two
thousand five hundred francs.
Having thanked the coachman in undress for the sight of
this interesting quadruped, the two travellers would emerge
into the street disconsolate; when Mr. Pinchbold would
say,  Ah, it's no use and Mr. Fudge would say nothing
at all, but would wander on in a sort of vague hope that
 something would occur that might once more throw a
horse across the path of his destiny. Nor was Mr. Pinch-
hold's conduct consistent altogether Avith the despondent
remark which has just been quoted, as emanating from his
lips. Although it  was no use, he Avas continually looking
out for horsedealers' yards, and was for ever running back
to look at all sorts of little scraps of paper pasted against
the walls, Avhich he always thought were advertisements for
horses, and Arhich almost invariably turned out to relate to
wet-nurses, endowed by nature with incredible qualifica-
tions for the profession, who were open to an advantageous
offer. But Mr. Pinchbold's researches among the adArer-
tisements which are so thickly plastered over the blank walls
of Paris, Avere not always Avithout result.
A FRENCH TATTERSALl/s.
158
On the day which we are describing, as he and Mr. Fudge
were walking along the street in which they had just
examined the horse which had been advertised in the Steele,
Mr. Pinchbold suddenly called out to his companion, who
was a good deal in advance, and that with such energy of
tone, as speedily brought Mr. Fudge back to his side. That
gentleman found Mr. Pinchbold contemplating an immense
yellow poster, which was adorning the wood-work of a screen
behind which some repairs were going on.
 Look here, Fudge, said Mr. Pinchbold;  here is a thing
which I feel a presentiment will turn out highly important
to us.
Mr. Fudge looked at the poster by which his friend's
attention had been arrested, and soon became highly inte-
rested in it himself. It was headed  Tattersall Fran^ais,
and was in truth an advertisement of a horse auction, held
every Wednesday afternoon, in a street in the neighbourhood
of the Champs Elysees, at which auction was sold hebdo-
madally (according to poster) an immense number, and an
immense variety of horses, carriages, and harnesses, all of the
most super-excellent description.
 What's to-day ? asked Mr. Fudge, turning swiftly to
his friend.
 Wednesday, was Mr. Pinchbold's answer.
 There would be no harm in going and seeing what it
is like, said Mr. Fudge.
 Harm ! repeated Mr. P.;  it is the only thing we can
do.
 We will make just this one more attempt, said Mr.
Fudge, "and if it fails, we will abandon the thing foi'
ever.
This Avas the phrase with which every new effort made
in connexion with the prosecution of their journey, was
prefaced by Mr. Fudge. The present attempt was always
to be the last, and if it failed, the failure was to be consi-
dered final.
The Tattersall's of England is a shabby-looking little
154
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
mews, intended originally to be of no sort of importance,
but rendered gradually and by circumstances, one of the
great institutions of our country. The French Tattersalls
is just the reverse of this. It is intended to be a very
important place indeed, and is as far from being so as can
well be imagined. It is an immense establishment, with a
vast covered auction-room, where the horses are trotted up
and down in front of the auctioneer's pulpit, and within two
ranges of hurdles, which separate them from the spectators,
who muster rather strong, and the buyers who muster rather
weak. There is immense accommodation also in the way
of stabling, and there are sale-rooms over the auction mart,
where the carriages and harnesses are displayed to solicit
patronage. The outside of the building presents a combi-
nation of an outrageously overgrown Swiss cottage and a
flimsy railway station, very edifying to behold.
As our two travellers laboured up the ascent which
conducts to the Barriere de l'Etoile, near which the Tatter-
sail Fra^ais is situated, they felt that fatigue which is only
known in the neighbourhood of the Faubourg St. Honors,
and that heat—it was a very hot day at the end of
September—by which also the quarter just named is pre-
eminently distinguished. There was no one in the great
auction hall when Mr. Fudge and his friend entered it,
except a lean gentleman in long boots and spurs, who
looked like the man who discourses with the clown in a
circus, and who refuses to take a joke on any terms what-
ever. This gentleman was placing papers on the auc-
tioneer's pulpit, and arranging forms for bidders who cotdd
not secure front places, to stand up upon and signify their
intentions with a nod. The circus gentleman seemed to
admire all his own arrangements very much, and he pos-
sessed that very valuable bow-legged stride which is
suggestive of continual horse-exercise, and which, taken in
connexion with buckskin breeches and hunting-boots, is
very impressive, as far as the uninitiated public is con-
-cerned. The gentleman in boots replied to Mr. Fudge's
A HORSE-AUCTION.
155
inquiry,, as to whether the horses which were destined for
the day's sale were on view, by ushering the two friends
through a side-door which led from the auction hall into a
naews, with rows of stables on either side of it.
As the visitors entered the stables, a groom, stationed at
the door, handed to each a printed paper, containing a cata-
logue of the horses which were to figure at the auction;
with a descriptive notice of each animal appended. The
horses looked somehow better on paper than in the flesh;
but the catalogue was not without its value notwithstand-
ing. "No. 1, a gray mare, aged, quiet to ride and drive,
without warranty, was a biographical notice, which,
though sounding not particularly magnificent, was very far
from conveying the abject appearance of the animal whom
it was supposed to describe. Mr. Fudge, assisted by Mr.
Pinchbold, went straight through the catalogue, both
gentlemen becoming more and more mystified as they went
on, till they came to No. 14,  a bay horse, 7 years old,
—a doubtful period, by the bye, in the age of a horse—
 quiet in double harness, and warranted sound, with the
exception of the alteration of the flank. At this point our
two friends abandoned the catalogue in despair, being
wholly unable to understand what was conveyed by this
bewildering expression, and feeling only, on contemplating
the animal to which it belonged, that its only chance of
sale would be in its being certain to alter, not only in the
flank, but also in every other portion of its ghastly frame.
In short, the horses on view in the stables of the Parisian
Tattersall's, were, with one or two exceptions, a sorry lot,
and. so the different amateurs, who to the number of twenty
or thirty were congregated in the stables, appeared to think.
They were almost all horse-jobber's dealers, fly-drivers,
and horse-agents, a kind of gentry, these last, who get rid
of your horse for you,, or provide you with one that
somebody else has got rid of, much as a house-agent finds
you a house or tenant when you want one. They are not,
as a class, personages whom from their appearance one*
156
A CRUIS-E UPON WHEELS.
would select as friends, or to whom a London loan company
would advance 500Z. on their own security; but they may
be very valuable members of society for all that. Several
ornaments of this fraternity accosted Mr. Fudge while he
"\vfis cngcig'GcI. in examining tliG TnttGrsfill find pressed
their cards upon him, with offers of service, at the same
time cautioning him against acting upon his own judgment,
and while mentioning that they knew of opportunities by
which a gentleman in search of a good horse might find
one, they would, at the same time, be so obliging as to
point out freely all the faults possessed by every animal in
the stables of the auction mart.
In this occupation of fault-finding there were indeed
plenty of professors, who went round tfie collection oft
view, punching the ribs, pinching the spines, peeping into
the mouths, disparaging the joints, carping at the limbs, and
objecting to the general appearance of every animal
exhibited, in a very discouraging manner. It was astonish-
ing to behold how Mr. Pinchbold took his tone from these
amateurs. He had been at first disposed to a great admira-
tion and appreciation of at least half the stock which he and
his friend were examining, and had selected especially some
five or six as peculiar objects of veneration; but no sooner
had the little knot of professionals approached one of his
favourites, and after probing, poking at, and peering into,
all its organization, pronounced it valueless, than he, too,
shook his head and informed Mr. Fudge that he had found
there was a screw loose about the animal in question from
the first. Thus one by one did Mr. Pinchbold abandon all
his proteges with the exception of the last upon the list.
This horse, described in the catalogue as  6 years old,
quiet to ride and drive, and sold with warranty, had, some-
how or other, escaped the animadversion of the professional
gentlemen, and towards it Mr. P. continued to manifest a
great and remarkable partiality. It was a bay horse, of a
someAvhat heavy and phlegmatic appearance, with a sleepy
eye, and singularly free from all those habits of stamping.
A HORSE-AUCTION.
157
couching the ears, and looking wildly about which charac-
terized its stable companions, and which always caused such
unfeigned alarm to our apprehensive friend. Mr. Pinch-
bold Avas standing still, lost in admiration, before the stall
of this apparently cold-blooded animal, when the bell rang
for the sale to begin, and everybody ran off as hard as
possible to secure front places.
As Mr. Pinchbold and his friend and comrade, Mr.
Fudge, followed the example of the rest of the world, the
first-named gentleman took the opportunity of enlarging at
great length upon the extraordinary qualities of the animal
with Avhose virtues he had become impressed, and concluded
by imparting some information which he had gained from
the groom, Avhose confidence he had gained by a fee of one
franc, and who had informed him that the horse he had
thus pitched upon Avas not only the best, but the quietest in
the place.
 And if I were you, Mr. P. concluded,  I Avould most
decidedly have a bid for him, for I believe, most firmly,
that Ave shall never have such a chance again.
Mr. Fudge was, hoAvever, in this case inexorable, and
declined to have anything to do Avith the affair.
 I don't believe in the place, or the horses, or anything
connected with either the one or the other, said this gentle-
man;  and I Avill have nothing to do with the affair at
all. But that, he continued,  is no reason why you, if
you feel so strongly on the subject, should not act upon
your convictions. As I bought the last horse and made a
failure of it, suppose you buy the next and make a
success.
Mr. Pinchbold Avas silent, and appeared to be deeply
impressed Avith the words which had fallen from Mr.
Fudge's lips. The tAvo gentlemen had uoav reached the
spacious building where the sale Avas to take place, and had
secured places Avhich Avere in front and next the hurdles,
but at a considerable distance from the auctioneer's pulpit.
There were a great many persons present Avho had not
158
A CRUISE UPOIST WHEELS.
appeared in the stables, and, as the doors were open to the
public, the public entered pretty freely, and there was quite
a crowd to see the sale.
The horses, from the moment of their leaving the stable,
went raving mad. They were mad as they were led clat-
tering along the passages that led to the auction hall; they
were mad when they were held to be examined for the last
time by the bidders; and they were madder than all when
they were careered up and down the enclosed space kept
for the purpose by the grooms, whose business it was to
show them off.
And now that the unhappy quadrupeds were released
from the shelter of a stable, and were exposed plainly to
view, they became once more the objects of such fierce
and furious scrutiny on the part of the amateurs (who had
only previously seen them in the stable), that it was a
wonder how they were able to bear up against it at all.
As each fresh horse was brought from the stable, the whole
crowd, consisting of the dealers, horse-jobbers, and agents
before mentioned, would swoop down upon it and once
more go to work, with a will, at the unfortunate beast's
mouth, knees, hoofs, eyes, and all the rest of its organiza-
tion, till they literally did not leave it a leg to stand upon.
Nay, there was one gentleman who seemed to have a theory
of his own upon the subject of testing the qualities of a
horse, and who, as each specimen was brought into the
auction mart, would fly at it and with his clenched fist hit
it a most terrific punch in the ribs, just behind the shoulder.
Having done this and looked round immediately upon the
bystanders with a knowing smile, this gentleman would
retire and wait for the next arrival, upon which he would
again rush forward, again administer his tremendous test,
and so on through the whole list.
 He was trying their tempers, this gentleman said, in
answer to a polite inquiry from Mr. Pinchbold into the
nature of his motives.  If the animal resents the blow,
and tries to defend itself, it has a bad temper; if, on the
A HORSE-AUCTION.
159
.other hand, it takes it calmly and without offence, its
temper may be relied on.
This was a tremendous wrinkle for Mr. Pinchbold. He
was not slow in hastening to impart it to his companion,
who was watching the progress of the sale with great in-
terest from his place next to the hurdles.
 I propose in future, said Mr. Pinchbold,  to apply
this test to every animal which we may have any serious,
intention of purchasing.
It is quite certain that, whatever other defects might be
charged against the Parisian Tattersall's, extravagance in
the price of the horses exposed there for sale could never
be alleged as a reason for discountenancing the establish-
ment. A horse that fetched twenty pounds made quite a
tremendous sensation, and four, five, and ten pounds were
high average prices. It was extraordinary to observe how,
in spite of this, the gentleman in the pulpit seemed to have
a strong internal conviction that each fresh horse that
entered the lists was to prove an exception to the rule, and
was to realize bids which none of his predecessors had been
able to obtain. However sorry the appearance of the
animal that was put up, however obvious the jeers and
expressions of contempt on the part of the public at sight
of it, the formula gone through was always the same.
 No. 5, screamed the auctioneer.
 No. 5, echoed the gentleman in boots, who was-
balancing himself on a railing by the side of the pulpit,
and holding on by it to keep himself from falling.
 No. 5, continued the auctioneer ;  a chestnut mare,
aged, quiet to ride and drive, sold without warranty.
"Eight hundred francs, shouted the gentleman in boots,
looking briskly about him.
 Eight hundred francs, cried the auctioneer, hope-
fully.
Here there would occur a dead silence, interrupted, per-
haps, by a scoffing laugh from some privileged amateurs.
 Seven hundred, shouted the man in boots.
360
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
 Six hundred, urged the auctioneer in a persuasive
manner.
 Five hundred, just to begin with, from the boots.
 Four hundred—three—two—one hundred—anything
to make a commencement.
All this time the degraded animal, whose market value
was thus rapidly deteriorating, wa's being trotted up and
down the lists, and, stimulated by the confusion of the
scene and by certain cuts which were administered by the
groom, would from time to time make a paralytic effort to
execute some sprightly caper, a reminiscence of its youth,
but now, alas ! wholly beyond its reach. After one of
these, a fly-driver, perhaps, who saw some hope of a year
or two of service yet left in the poor jade, would, with a
tremendous effort, screw out a bid of sixty francs, grasped
at only too eagerly by the now desponding auctioneer.
The low prices fetched by the different horses put up
for sale at the Tattersall Fra^ais seemed to have a great
effect upon Mr. Pinchbold. After observing the scene for
some time in silence, that gentleman suddenly bespoke his
friend's attention and solemnly informed him that he had
been thinking of his (Mr. Fudge's) proposal that he should
bid for the horse which had so captivated him in the stable;
and that he had come to the determination that if that
animal appeared as satisfactory when brought out for sale,
and if, above all, it stood the application of the test which
he had just learnt, and which he meant to try, that then,
in short, he thought he actually would take Mr. Fudge's
advice and would bid as far as five hundred francs at any
rate for the bay.
Under some circumstances, perhaps, Mr. Fudge would
have recalled the opinion which he had expressed, half in
joke, on the subject upon which Mr. Pinchbold was con-
suiting him ; but he was now in one of those half desperate,
half careless moods, when men are just the most ripe for a
venture of this kind. To say the truth, too, he half
doubted whether the strength of his companion's resolution
ME. PINCHEOLD'S BAY.
161
would carry him through the undertaking which he talked
about in such a valiant manner. At all events, he offered
no opposition to Mr. Pinchbold's proposal, and assented at
once to that gentleman's request that he would retire to a
distant bench while he (Mr. Pinchbold) conducted the
affair, as Mr. P. felt that the consciousness that his friend
was observing him would wholly unnerve him, and inca-
pacitate him for the carrying out of his fell purpose.
From the moment that this arrangement had been made,
Mr. Pinchbold's mixed importance and apprehensiveness
were a sight to behold. He was unable to remain in one
place or one position for five minutes together. He was
for ever running off to the stables to try and get another
glimpse of his favourite, and for ever referring to the list
to see how soon its turn would come round.
But when its turn did at length come round, when its
kicking and plunging predecessor had been removed, and
Mr. Pinchbold's bay was trotted in, then indeed did the
conduct of that gentleman become a study of interest and
profit. Withdrawing to the opposite side of the building,
from the position occupied by the object of his longing,
Mr. Pinchbold made a furious rush towards it with the
intention of applying his newly-acquired test, but, relenting
as he drew nearer to his victim, he pulled suddenly up,
and administering a slight tap, which might perhaps have
knocked a fly off if it had been on the spot and not very
hungry, he walked off again perfectly satisfied that he had
applied the test in full force, and that the bay, who had
taken no notice of it at all, was distinguished by the sweetest
and most long-suffering of dispositions.
Great was Mr. Fudge's surprise as he sat (in accordance
with Mr. Pinchbold's request) on a distant seat and watched
these proceedings of his companion; but it was still greater
when he saw that gentleman mount upon a bench from
which he could calculate on catching the auctioneer's eye,
and set himself in earnest to his task.
The bay horse, having been now sufficiently examined
M
162
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
and tried in all manner of ways by the amateurs, among
whom a curious amount of veiled sarcasm and of covert
whisperings was going on—the bay horse (Mr. Pinchbold s
prize) was at length put through his paces, and was led up
and down the lists as had been the case with all his prede-
cessors. Nothing could exceed the docility of the animal.
Far different from all those that had gone before, he seemed
to be neither excited nor alarmed by the concourse ot
persons before whom he was called upon to appear. He
trotted calmly up and down between the hurdles, and
stopped as quiet and collected in his place, under the pulpit
as if he had been at the same sort of thing all his life.
It was a curious thing that from the time that this
amiable beast had entered the auction-hallr public opinion
seemed to have connected him in some mysterious way
with Mr. Pinchbold. Whether it was that that gentleman's
interest in the animal while in the stable had been observed
by the amateurs, whether the groom whom Mr. P. had
fee'd had spread a report that the little English gentleman
was after the horse, or from what other reason it is impos-
sible to say, but certain it is, that there were at this time
many side glances bestowed upon Mr. Pinchbold by the
groups of professionals, and that even with the auctioneer
and the gentleman in the boots, who would whisper together
and look towards him, Mr. P. was an object of attention.
 A bay horse, six years old, quiet to ride and drive,
sold with warranty, cried the auctioner, with his eye upon
Mr. Pinchbold.
 A bay horse, six years old, quiet to ride and drivej
sold with warranty, repeated the gentleman in boots,
gazing steadily in the same direction •  shall we say eight
hundred francs for the bay to begin with ?
Mr. Pinchbold feigned a total unconsciousness, and made
a paralytic attempt to cough unconcernedly.
 Quiet to ride and drive, said the gentleman in boots
again ; he had just been holding a whispered conversation
with Mr. Pinchbold's friend the groom.  Shall we say
• -3IE. PINCBBOLD'S BAT. 103
-ax hundred francs for the bay horse, quiet to ride and
drive, sold with warranty ?
There being no response to this appeal on the part of
Mr. Pinchbold or any one else, the bay horse now went
through the usual descending scale, till it had reached that
pitch of degradation at which the auctioneer requests the
Bidders to  name their own price. At this point a
member of the horse fraternity, stationed on the side of the
lists opposite to that occupied by Mr. Pinchbold, made a
bid, and called out, gazing hard at our adventurous friend
as he did so :
 One hundred and fifty francs.
Now it came-to pass that Mr. Fudge, sitting in a distant
place against the wall, did observe that after this bid had
been made, there was no member of the whole horse
fraternity but fixed his gaze steadily upon his friend Mr.
Pinchbold, and further, that neither the auctioneer nor the
gentleman in boots, whose ordinary function it was to look
about for bidders, had eyes for any one in the building
except the' little English gentleman standing upon his
bench. And so, when the English gentleman made thus
the object of public attention did slowly and solemnly nod
his head in token of a wish to advance a bid of five francs
over and above the offer of the gentleman who had spoken
first—when this happened, it was only what everybody
expected, and nobody in the building was surprised, with
the exception of Mr. Fudge.
And so, the contest once begun, the bidding soon became
fast and furious, and Mr. Pinchbold, from nodding slowly
and solemnly, got on to nod with violence and passion, and
even at times to shout out small increases of price in a loud
and business-like voice. The gentleman on the opposite
side of the building, in his turn, was not behindhand, and
gave Mr. Pinchbold nod for nod, increase for increase, and
as, whenever there seemed any risk of the competition
flagging, the auctioneer would order the bay horse to be
trotted up and down, or would fall into an ecstasy of admi-
m 2
164
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
ration over its qualities, saying that if he had not so large
a stud of his own, he would buy it himself for his wife to
drive ; as these stimulants were applied from time to time,
the bidding went on at a great rate, and reached the sum of
four hundred francs in no time.
But if Mr. Fudge, as he sat an excited spectator of
all these things, was astounded at the spirited part played
on this occasion by his friend—if he was thunderstruck as
he observed the unhesitating manner in which Mr. Pinch-
bold plunged deeper and deeper into the contest, nodding
and gesticulating like a native, and almost tumbling off his
bench in the violence of his emotion—if all these things
were subjects of surprise to our friend Mr. Fudge, what
was his astonishment, his utter bewilderment and conster-
nation, when he saw a man in the crowd standing close to
Mr. Pinchbold hand furtively to that gentleman a piece of
paper or a card—Mr. Fudge could not see which—when
he saw Mr. Pinchbold, after reading what was inscribed
thereon, jump down from his bench, and push his way
through the crowd to where he (Mr. Fudge) was sitting,
leaving his antagonist in possession of the field, and of the
bay horse into the bargain.
 Come along, Fudge, said Mr. Pinchbold, hastily
clutching at his friend's arm, and dragging him towards
the door;  come away instantly out of this horrible
place.
 But what is it ? inquired Mr. Fudge, resisting;  why
have you given in ? what's the matter ? see—everybody is
staring at us !
 Never mind, Mr. Pinchbold articulated, breathlessly;
 I'll tell you all about it—only let's get outside, and away
from all these rogues and miscreants.
And in truth, so violently did Mr. Pinchbold pull at his
companion's arm, and so additionally absurd did resistance
make their already ridiculous situation, that Mr. Fudge
was fain to give in, and in half a minute more the two
friends were free of the 11 Tattersall's, and posting away
ROGUES ALL.
165
with their backs towards that institution—down the Fan-
bourg St. Honore.
 Now tell me, said Mr. Fudge, attempting to arrest his
companion ;  tell me what is the meaning of all this.
 No—not yet—not yet, said Mr. Pinchbold;  wait, I
implore you, till we get to the hotel. I can't tell you yet.
It was in vain that Mr. Fudge implored to be enlightened.
Mr. Pinchbold would only hurry on, becoming hotter and
more breathless every moment; nor could Mr. Fudge, who
began to fear that his companion's reason was becoming
unsettled, extract a word from him till they had reached
their hotel in the Eue du Helder, and seated themselves in
the salle-a-manger to wait for dinner.
It was then, and not till then, that Mr. Pinchbold,
thrusting his hand into his pocket, brought out, among a
quantity of miscellaneous articles, a common pasteboard
card, which he placed in his companion's hand.
Mr. Fudge read hastily on the printed side of it—
 Maguignon, Marchand de Chevaux, Eue Neuve des
Mathurins, and then turning it over he found written in
pencil, and in the French language, the following words:—
 The man who is bidding against you is the owner of
the horse. The beast has a fearful temper—as I know
from a man it once belonged to—and it has been drugged
this morning before it was sent to the auction.'1''
Mr. Fudge sat for some time, after perusing this docu-
ment, turning it over and over with his fingers, while Mr.
Pinchbold was occupied (as is frequently the case with
gentlemen who are waiting for dinner) in breaking off bits
of new bread and spoiling his appetite with the same.
"We must go and thank this M. Maguignon, he said,
presently.
 I think we had better do nothing of the kind, said his
companion.
 What, don't you believe about the drugging ? inquired
Mr. Pinchbold.
 I neither believe nor disbelieve it, answered Mr.
166
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
Fudge.  It may be true, or it may be a story trumped up
by M. Maguignon to prevent your buying the horse, and
to make you choose one of his. At all events, I think you
are well out of the bargain, and that the less we have to d®
with any of the Tattersall set the better.
"I think, replied Mr. Pinchbold, rather snappishly,.
 that the less we have to do with the whole thing the-
better. At all events, I've- made my first and last move-
ment in the affair. No more horse transactions for Francis
Pinchbold. The- honest gentleman was a little irritated,
but he was himself again before either he or his friend had
swallowed a dozen spoonfuls of soup, and as ready to laugh
at his adventure at the Tattersall's as his friend was to con-
gratulate him on the excessive spirit with which it had been
carried through from beginning to end.
Such was a specimen-day of the Paris life of-the two
friends. They passed through many such experiences as
have been here quoted, all of the same kind, though not
all wearing the same form. One thing, however, was
uniformly the same, and this was the conviction with which
every fresh experiment ended, that they were in the hands
of rogues, and in danger of being cheated at every turn,
unless they kept all their wits about them, and kept them,
too, in a high state of brightness and activity.
Many more attempts were made, even after the'Tattersall
failure; though it is justice to say that Mr. Pinchbold
remained true to his determination, and took thenceforth
no share but a passive one in all future transactions. The
passion of Hope, however, was very; strongly developed in
Mr. Fudge's constitution, and it is incredible from what
failures and disappointments that gentleman would rise
buoyant in the expectation that the next effort would be.a
successful one. He would go boldly into the neatly ordered
stables of a fashionable dealer in the Champs Elysees,
would inspect his whole stock of horses, and inquiring the
price of the least valuable animal in the colleetion, would,
be told that.the horses rangedfrom 16Oh upwards. Wishing.
STILL AGEOITND.
167
the proprietor of these valuable animals good morning, Mr.
Fudge would next enter the establishment of a horse-jobber,
and finding out of a score or so of hacks that there was not
one that would even appear likely to do, would leave this
gentleman still with a sanguine heart. He would then
perhaps accost the driver of one of those carriages which
stand under doorways all over Paris, and which nobody ever
seems to want, and would ask the man where he and his fra-
ternity went when they wanted to buy a horse. The fly-
driver would probably send him to some place, very hard to
find, at the opposite extremity of Paris, where he would be
introduced into a stable full of those wonderful white horses
which draw the Paris omnibuses. Here, after narrowly
escaping being kicked to pieces, stamped to pieces, bitten to
pieces, by these animals, who are many degrees more un-
tamed than any of the beasts who are called wild, and are
shown through bars to the public in menageries,—after being
half maddened with the neighings and yellings of these tre-
mendous quadrupeds, Mr. Fudge would, perhaps, find some
one specimen more calm and reasonable than the rest, and
would so far commit himself as to agree to try it on a future
day. Then on the future day he and Mr. Pinchbold,
mounted on a high gig, with the horsedealer's head groom
standing behind and looking between them at the horse's
ears, would try the horse, who would probably conduct
himself in so outrageous a manner in the Paris streets, that
the two gentlemen were very glad when they got safe back
to the stables, and so that affair would terminate with a fee
to the groom and an expression of regret on Mr. Fudge's
part that the horse did not appear to be quite suited to his
purpose.
168
CHAPTER X.
the carriole arrives at paris, and the prospects of the
travellers begin to brighten considerably. a new and
very remarkable character is introduced to the reader.
If Mr. Fudge had not written to the coachmaker with
whom the carriole had been left in charge, requesting him
to send that vehicle by railroad to Paris without delay; if
this step had not been taken, there really seems some reason
to doubt whether the same hopelessness which came over
him and his friend at Amiens, might not have got posses-
sion ot them at Paris also: for it did not seem much
more easy to get a horse at the last-named place than at
the first.
The great step of sending for the carriole, however, was
taken. One morning a letter arrived from the coachmaker,
in which he acknowledged the receipt of the remittance
enclosed by Mr. Fudge for the housing of the carriole.
Next he begged to state that he had forwarded that vehicle
to the station of the Chemin de Fer du Nord, whence it
would be despatched by slow train to Paris. Finally, the
coachmaker took the liberty of remarking that the carriole
would be at Paris as soon as his letter ; and he concluded
by requesting that Mr. Fudge would accept the assurance
of the distinguished sentiments with which he remained, &c.
The goods station of a great railroad is, perhaps, one of
the most uninviting combinations of bricks, timber, trucks,
cranes, and general desolation which is to be found even in
these days, when the institutions just named axe to be met
ARRIVAL OF THE CARRIOLE.
169
with under so many conditions of abomination, turn where
we will. It was quite late in the afternoon before Mr.
Fudge, who had had a busy day of it, started, with the
coachmaker's letter in his hand, for the goods station of the
Great Northern Railway of France. It was an immense
way off, miles beyond the passenger station, miles beyond
the Barriere, beyond the Faubourg, beyond everything.
When Mr. Fudge at last reached the station, he prowled
for some time about among its sheds and outhouses, and
walked up and down and here and there, among barren
tracts of cinders, and along lines of rusty rails, which
seemed to have been laid down in much greater profusion
than there was any necessity for. He did this partly
because he could not screw himself up to the proper
degree of toughness of nerve requisite for an interview
with foreign officials, and partly from a curious desire
which he felt to see for himself whether the carriole had
arrived.
Ah, there it was, in a deserted corner at the end of the
rustiest line of rails, perched up high upon a truck, and
wearing a helpless and disconsolate look enough. Mr.
Fudge went up to it, and peered into the inside. Yes,
there was everything intact; there were the cushions, there
was Bijou's harness, there were the bells that used to jingle
round her fair white neck. There, too, was the stone
water-bottle used for that great roadside tea-making. Nay,
there was one of the tea-mugs sticking out of the pocket,
and some old candle-ends belonging to the carriage
lamps.
"And now you're come, said Mr. Fudge, addressing
the helpless vehicle,  I don't know what I'm to do with
you. I have nowhere to house you, no horse to put
between your shafts, nor, as far as I can see, any prospect
of one.
 They can supply you with a horse here if you want to
move it, said a voice immediately behind Mr. Fudge.
The words were spoken in perfectly good English, but with
170
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
that peculiar and somewhat vulgar familiarity which always
characterizes the English of a Frenchman of the lower
class. Mr. Fudge was a little startled at finding that his
address to the carriole had been overheard.
"Have you got your order for the delivery of the
carriage ? asked the official;  if so, you can take it away
at once.
Mr. Fudge was obliged to acknowledge that he had not
yet acquired the proper document. To procure this took
so long, and necessitated the going into so many offices, and
the performance of so many rites and ceremonies—none of
which, by the bye, had the effect of filling Mr. Fudge's
purse—that it at last got quite dark before all was done,
and Mr. F. had to request permission to leave the carriole
where it was for the night, saying that he would send for
it the first thing in the morning. On his way home, Mr.
Fudge called at the house of a certain livery-stable keeper,
who lived not far from the hotel, and gave him directions
to fetch the carriole away from the station early next day.
And where was Mr. Pinchbold all this time? Mr.
Pinchbold had gone to pay a visit to Mazard.
And who or what was Mazard ?
It happened that one evening, some time after their
arrival at Paris, and about the period of the events
narrated in the last chapter, our two friends were taking
an after-dinner walk about the town, when, as they were
passing down one of its smaller thoroughfares, they hap-
pened to notice a dog of the same kind as that which we
have seen in the sketch of M. Morve, the veterinary surgeon
of Malaise, though somewhat different in colour from that
faithful ally of their medical acquaintance. The dog was
standing on the extreme edge of the pavement with his
back to the houses—the shop behind him being, it should
be stated, a pastrycook's. Our friends were walking in the
road and not on the pavement, in deference to an earnest
request of Mr. Pinchbold, for whom the midnight assassin
lurked in every dark-looking doorway; so, as they were in
MAZAltD.
171
the middle of the road, and the dog was standing with his
face turned in that direction, he was rather a conspicuous
object, and Mr. Fudge, whose partiality for animals verged
on insanity, instantly uttered the masonic signal, which
consists, as everybody knows, of three words spoken in the
minor key or falsetto.
 Good little dog! said Mr. Fudge.
The dog instantly responded to Mr. Fudge's salutation,
and signalized his appreciation of the attention paid to him
by executing a kind of dance peculiar to dogs of the species
to which he belonged—a dance almost entirely executed
by the fore-legs, the hinder extremities remaining almost
stationary.
 What a sociable beast! said Mr. Fudge.
He was a very odd dog to look at. He colour was in
the main dirty white, but his two upright ears were of a
tan or yellowish tint, and there were one or two spots of
the same colour on other parts of his body. He was very
fat, his fur was very thick and soft, his brush of a tail
tightly curled up upon his back, and his eyes of the most
eloquent description conceivable. There was a curious
expression about his mouth, caused by the projection of
one of his under teeth, which made him appear as if he
was always smiling.
Mr. Fudge having engaged in a brief conversation with
this animal, having asked him how he was, whether he was
not a very nice dog, and a few other questions, to all of
which he received satisfactory replies, tore himself away
from the society of this fascinating animal, and went on his
way, accompanied by his companion. The dog seemed,
however, singularly unwilling to part from his new friends.
He jumped about them, followed them, barked about their
heels, and then ran on in front of them and looked back
with the strangest expression of interest conceivable. In
fact, he followed them in this way to the end of the street,
and stood there till they were out of sight, looking wistfully
after them.
172
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
 What a very singular animal! said Mr. Fudge;  one
would say that he wanted something.
 I trust he is not insane, remarked Mr. Pinchbold,
gloomily. „
It so happened that, on the evening of which we are now
speaking, our two friends were, contrary to their usual
custom, returning by the way by which they came. They
had no sooner entered the by-street in which their inter-
view with the sociable dog had taken place, than this
strange animal burst out upon them again, and began
dancing and barking round them precisely as before.
An old woman looked out of an upper window, and
addressing the dog by the name of  Mazard, said some-
thing to him in a semi-reproachful tone. Neither Mr.
Fudge nor his friend heard what she said, though it seemed
to both of them that the expression  un sous occurred
more than once in the course of her address.  Mazard,
which was evidently the dog's name, became less impor-
tunate in his attentions after the old lady's expostulation,
but he still followed them at a little distance, and still
looked wistfully after them till they disappeared.
 What a very singular dog ! said Mr. Fudge, again.
 I begin to think that he is insane, answered Mr.
Pinchbold.
The next day the mystery became still more complicated.
Our travellers, passing down the street in which Mazard
resided, found that remarkable animal in a violent state of
excitement, caused apparently by the proceedings of an old
gentleman in a military dress, who kept chinking a piece of
money of some kind upon the pavement, alternately letting
it go and then snatching it up again just when Mazard,
who followed all his movements, was advancing his paw
towards it. Two or three bystanders appeared to be enjoy-
ing the joke, whatever it was, in no way surprised, how-
ever, at the peculiar nature of the pastime in which Mazard
and the old officer were engaged. The military gentleman
presently restored the piece of money to his pocket, the
MAZARD.
173
bystanders walked off, and Mazard was left looking rather
disconsolate in the middle of the road. He had now leisure
to observe the presence of the two Englishmen, which he
had no sooner done than he came capering up to them, and
stood staring in their faces with the same inquiring expres-
sion which they had taken note of before.
 Do you know, said Mr. Fudge, looking steadily at his
companion with the air of a man who is about to propound
a theory which he does not expect to be believed— do
you know that I actually believe that this dog is asking for
a sous.
 Nonsense, said Mr. Pinchbold;  what could he do
with a sous if he had it ? The sons of men alone tear each
other to pieces for these rascal counters. The sons of
men 
 Never mind about the sons of men, said Mr. Fudge,
 but mark the result of an experiment I am going to
make. The old woman at the window last night said
something about a sous. The old officer this evening was
tantalizing the dog by alternately offering him one of those
coins and withdrawing it just as Mazard was going to seize
it. From all this I draw my own inferences.
Mr. Fudge now proceeded to put his hypothesis to a
practical test. First of all he unbuttoned his coat. Mazard
became intensely excited, and shifted his fore-legs from side
to side. Mr. Fudge put his hand into his left trousers
pocket. Mazard began to jump backwards and forwards.
Mr. Fudge rattled half-a-dozen sous that were in his
pocket. Mazard jumped more buoyantly than ever,
uttering at intervals a short bark of delight. Mr. Fudge
looked at Mr. Pinchbold in triumph, and Mr. Pinchbold
looked at Mr. Fudge in consternation.
 You see there is no doubt about it, said Mr. Fudge,
as he took a sous out of his pocket and extended it towards
the dog. Mazard instantly took the coin into his mouth,
and to all appearance swallowed it.
Directly that Mazard had got the sous, which he had
174
A CKUISE TJEON WHEELS.
been soliciting so eagerly, into his mouth, his whole
appearance and conduct underwent a great change, and,
from being violently and unreasonably excited, he instantly
became the most perfectly calm, and even apathetic animal
that ever was seen. He took no more notice of the two
friends, and began moving about, snuffing and smelling
hither and thither, just like other and less gifted dogs. So
that our two Englishmen, after lingering and watching him
some time, concluded that there was an end of the enter-
tainment, and began to move off. It happened, however,
that as they did so Mr. Pinchbold looked back.
 Mazard is going back into the shop, said he, arresting
his companion. Mr. Fudge looked round just in time to
see this eccentric animal pushing violently at the shop door
with his nose. He at last managed to get the door open,
and entering immediately, was lost to sight. Our two
friends immediately retracing their steps, and looking
through the glass door of the shop, beheld the explanation
of the mystery about which they had been so much
troubled.
The extraordinary and gifted animal, as showmen say,
whose proceedings we have thus minutely described, was
now trotting up and down the interior of the shop, which
the reader will remember was a pastry-cook's, and was
endeavouring apparently to attract the attention of a young
woman behind the counter engaged in serving a customer.
The whole carriage and demeanour of the dog was suffi-
ciently remarkable. His head was thrown back, his tail
was in the air, and his movements were characterized by a
peculiar kind of strut of great and conscious importance.
At times, too, he would utter a peculiar crowing sound,
such as one does not usually identify with the lungs of the
canine, species. It was some time before the woman behind
the counter was able to pay any attention to the dog; but
when her customer was. at length disposed of^ she came
round at once to where the dog was, in the central part of
the shop between, the two counters.
MAZARD.
175
"What, Hazard, she said, "hast thou got a sous? and
she stooped down and held her hand open under the dog's
mouth. This seemed to be, however, only an established
form understood by both parties. Messrs. Fudge and
Pinchbold, gazing into the shop with eager curiosity, saw
the dog deliberately shake his head with an air that said
plainly,  No, no, I'm not going to give it up like that, and
you know that as well as I do. After which he recom-
meneed his course up and down the shop, crowing away
more vain-gloriously than ever. "Very well, said the
young woman,  delivery before payment is your rule, isn't
it? and she took a peculiar sort of sponge-cake, of which
there were several upon a tray on the counter, holding it
out towards the dog with her right hand, and placing as
before her left hand under his mouth.
The dog instantly dropped Mr. Fudge's sous into her
palm, and snatching the cake out of her hand, trotted off
in high glee into the back shop to enjoy it by himself.
Messrs. Fudge and Pinchbold turned themselves about,
and gazed mutely in each other's countenances in speechless
astonishment. They remained thus for the space of two
minutes, at the expiration of which time they faced about
once more and rushed tumultuously, and by common
consent, into the pastry-cook's shop.
 The history of that dog ! shrieked Mr. Fudge,_ who
was the first to enter.
 That dog and his history ! yelled Mr. Pinchbold from
the steps outside.
The woman behind the counter was obviously not un-
accustomed to inquiries relating to her dog, but she seemed
a little taken aback by the extremely energetic nature of
the curiosity of the two Englishmen.
 Ah, Monsieur, she said,  Mazard is the apple of our
eyes, and the astonishment of all who behold him. The
talent of which you have just been a witness has only how-
ever recently been developed in him, and what is more
extraordinary, the trick was a thing of his own discovery,
176
A CETJISE UPON WHEELS.
and was not taught him, as far as we know, by a living
soul.
44 And how did it originate, then ? inquired Mr. Fudge.
 It originated thus, answered the woman. 44 One of
our customers, a lady who lives close by, was making
some purchases here, and in paying for what she had, she
happened to drop a sous out of her change. When she
stooped down to look for it, it was nowhere to be found.
4 It is singular, too,' she said; 41 am certain I dropped it,
and yet I can nowhere see it.' We all helped to look for
it, and Mazard even, who was standing by, snuffed about as
dogs will, as if he too were assisting in the search. 4 It is
only a sous lost,' said the lady ; 4 so much the worse for the
beggars.'
44 Well, sir, a little time after the lady was gone, our
attention was attracted by the peculiar behaviour of Mazard,
who was trotting up and down the shop in a state of great
excitement, and uttering a peculiar kind of cry, such as a
cat will make over a kitten, as you heard to-day.
44 For some time we did not take much notice of him,
but at last my mother, who happened to be in the shop,
and who is very fond of the dog, went to him and began
talking to him, 44 What is the matter, Mazard ?' she said;
4 what ails thee, my dog ?' and then she took one of those
sponge cakes from the counter, it being her habit now and
then, on rare occasions, to give one of them, when it had
got quite stale and was no longer saleable, to her favourite.
44 What was her astonishment, when Mazard instantly
drooped a sous out of his mouth as if in payment for the
cake, and then began romping and tearing round the shop
as you have seen him to-day, as if in a state of ecstasy at
his own cleverness.
44 This, gentleman, is all, the woman said, in conclusion,
44 positively all that we know about the matter. After that
day, when the thing came to be talked about, our friends and
customers would give the dog a sous to try him, and by
and by it got known out of doors, and all sorts of people
MAZARD.
177
would give Mazard a five-centime piece to see what he
would do with it. Always with the same result. He
always goes through exactly the same performance that you
have seen, and has never altered a bit since the first day
when he showed his accomplishment.
 But oh, sir, the woman said, interrupting herself in
her admiration of her favourite,  if you knew what that
dog is as I do ! If you knew his honesty. Why, we have
left those cakes which he is so fond of about on the floor to
try him, and he will not touch one of them. He will not
accept a two-sous cake either, if we offer it to him in
exchange for his sous; nor will he take one of those which
he always buys as a gift, unless he has the money to pay
for it. See, she continued,  Mazard—Mazard, and she
held out to him one of his favourite cakes.
The dog, who had been listening attentively to the recent
conversation, and who appeared to have derived much
gratification from the honourable mention of his name
which had occurred in it, instantly obeyed his mistress's
call, but declined to take the proffered cake. Of course,
Mr. Pinchbold gave him a sous on the spot, and of course
he laid it out instantly in his chosen delicacy.
 And has he ever been known to go through this per-
formance elsewhere ? inquired Mr. Fudge.
 Never, answered the woman;  and I am persuaded
(she always spoke of the dog as if he was a customer)
 that he would rather starve than deal at any other shop
than his own.
Of course Mazard and his extraordinary performance
were the subject of much conversation between Mr. Fudge
and his companion ; and of course there was much, specula-
tion as to how far the statement of his mistress was to be
relied on.
 I see no reason, said Mr. Fudge,  to doubt it; there
•seems to me nothing beyond canine intellect in the process
of thought implied by what we have just seen. This dog
passes his whole time in a certain place, where he sees, all
N
178
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
day long, certain articles of food handed over to those who-
apply for them, whilst in every case he sees also that a
certain circular piece of metal is given in exchange for
those articles of food. Is it too much to suppose that the
dog would learn at last to think that if he could become
possessed of one of those pieces of metal, he would have a
right to one of those cakes in which his inmost heart
delighted ?
Mr. Pinchbold shook his head, and intimated vaguely,
that he was disposed to take a supernatural view of the
whole affair. The fact is, that this worthy gentleman was.
ruminating in his own mind over a project which kept him
silent throughout the whole evening which succeeded the.
visit of the two friends to the pastrycook's shop. The
next morning he could contain it no longer.
 Fudge, he said, smiting the breakfast table with his
fist,  I must have him.
 Have who ? asked Mr. Fudge.
u Mazard, replied Mr. Pinchbold, and with that he
proceeded to develop to his astonished companion, all the
advantages that would acerue to them from such an addition
to the travelling party.  Think, he said,  what a safe-
guard he would be in times of danger, and what an amuse-
ment in moments of ennui.
Mr. Fudge, on recovering from his first surprise, was
entirely favourable to his friend's proposal. He was, how-
ever, not altogether sanguine about his chances of getting-
Mazard away from his present possessors.
 Your only chance, he said,  arises from the fact that
there is no man in the case. A Frenchwoman may be'
fond of a dog, but she will be fonder of a hundred
francs; so it is just possible that a hundred francs may
do it.
 I would willingly give them, said Mr. Pinchbold;  it
is only, he added, true to his favourite delusion,  it is only,
sticking to it a little harder at Westminster Hall, when we
get back.
NEGOTIATIONS.
179
Negotiations were opened the same day with Hazard's
proprietress. At the first mention of the idea of parting
with the dog, the young lady in the shop became an out-
raged individual, and the old lady upstairs, who came
down on purpose to hear what was going on, caught the
dog up in her arms and swore he should never leave the
house.
Mr. Pinchbold had confided the whole Hazard transac-
tion to his friend Mr. Fudge, Mr. P. himself having certain
disqualifications for making bargains of rather a serious
kind. He was always, to begin with, in a violent hurry to
bring the affair, whatever it might be, to a close. He
always offered too much to start with, and when his offer
was accepted became deeply and, let us add, publicly peni-
tent. But what, was the. worst thing of all was this, that
when by any chance the owner of any object which he
desired contented himself with demanding the proper price
for it, he invariably turned round at once to his friend, ex-
claiming,  By heavens, Fudge, how extraordinarily cheap!
So Mr. Pinchbold was considered a bad hand at making a
bargain.
Mr. Fudge, on the contrary, who was, as we have else-
where hinted, a profound economist, and great on the
subject of finance, was a very good hand at a bargain. He
saw in a moment the plan to be adopted in the present
case, and quietly remarking that he was sorry they would
not part with the dog, he added, as he left the shop,  that
if Mazard's owner should chance to change her mind, there
was a gentleman staying at the Hotel du Helder, who would
give a hundred francs for the dog.
Mr. Pinchbold passed the whole of the day on which
Mr. Fudge had thus opened negotiations for the purchase
of Mazard, in a state of great agitation and alarm, and it
was as much as his friend could do to prevent him from
rushing off t° the patissier's to offer a much larger sum
than that which Mr. Fudge had mentioned.
Now it happened, fortunately for Mr. Pinchbold's peace
n 2
180
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
of mind, that in the same street in which Mazard s pastry-
cook resided, there was another shop of a precisely similar
kind, but more recently established. It happened, also,
that between this shop and Mazard's a great antagonism
existed, and that between the proprietress of the opposi-
tion shop and the proprietress of Mazard's shop there
was an amount of rivalry which extended beyond com-
mercial limits, and touched upon the affairs of private
life to such an extent that there was scarcely an article
of food or a piece of furniture purchased by the opposi-
tion lady the like of which or, if possible, the superior was
not instantly ordered by Mazard's mistress. It happened
then, most fortunately for Mr. Pinchbold, that the moment
at which he made his offer was one when the owner of the
gifted animal which Mr. Pinchbold coveted was very much
in want of a good round sum of money. It was only on
the Sunday before that offer was made, that the fiend at
the opposition shop had issued forth on her way to Mass in
an entirely new rig from head to foot, and that of so aggra-
vating and gorgeous a description, comprising such unat-
tainable altitude of bonnet, such outrageous wealth of
breadths in the skirt, such amplitudes of silk in the
basquine, as had caused Mazard's mistress to retire to her
sleeping apartment, where she flung herself upon her bed
and upon her best bonnet, which happened to be reposing
there, and required to know of her destiny when it would
be weary of tormenting her, and how much longer the
career of that brazen wretch at No. 45 bis, was to go on
unchecked ?
This access of despair was followed by a period of calm
reflection as to how by the next Sunday she should herself
become provided with a suit of clothes equal, if not supe-
rior, to that in which 45 bis had blazed forth that very
day. The business was not hers, but her mother's, and the
good old lady kept a keen look-out on its proceeds. What
was to be done ?
Things were at this point then, and the week had ad-
ITBGOTIATIONS.
181
vanced no farther than the Tuesday succeeding the Sunday
On which 45 bis had triumphed, when the offer of Mr.
Pinchbold, as above related, came in the very nick of
time. It was her affair, too; the business was her
mother's, but the dog was her own to do what she lilted
with.
On the very evening, then, of the day on which this
offer was made, and just as they were about to issue forth
from the hotel, Mr. Fudge was informed that a young
woman was without, wishing to speak with the English
gentleman who wanted a dog. Mr. Pinchbold happened
at that moment to be in Mr. Fudge's room, waiting till he
was ready to go out, but he no sooner heard this announce-
ment than he instantly rushed out on to the landing in a
state of violent excitement. He was closely followed by
his friend, who was afraid to leave him lest he should
commit himself in the matter of the bargain. Nor were
his apprehensions without some foundation. Mr. Fudge
found that not only had Mazard's proprietress come her-
self, but she had also brought the dog with her, and Mr.
Pinchbold was politely thanking her for her readiness to
oblige him in parting with so priceless a treasure for so
email a sum.
The fair patissiere seemed to think this a good moment
for broaching some new and rather startling views of her
own on the subject of the present transaction. She began
by remarking that although they saw her there and the dog
with her, she yet felt undecided on the subject of parting
with him. Mr. Pinchbold looked suddenly chopfallen,
and Mazard, who was smelbng that gentleman's shin as if
with a view to ascertain whether it was the shin of one
whom he would like for a master, desisted from that occu-
pation and became attentive to business. She felt, the lady
continued, that to part with Mazard would break her
heart—Mr. Pinchbold sighed heavily—and that of her
aged mother. The dog, however, was her, the speaker's,
property ; her mother had no control over it. Mr. Pinch-
183
A CRUTSE UPON WHEELS.
bold brightened up. At this point the young lady diverged
into a statement of some length as to the likelihood of her
own and her mother's recovery from such a blow as the
loss of Hazard would prove to them. A statement which
ended in her taking a very desponding view of the case,
and intimating at last that though she had little hope on the
subject, she happened to be in want of a sum of money,
and that she would be disposed to risk her own happiness
and her mother's if Mr. Fudge's friend was disposed on his
part to double his previous offer, and give two hundred
francs instead of one hundred for the dog.
Mr. Pinchbold sprung off his seat, for there was a bench
covered with green velvet on the landing where this scene
took place, and was about to speak when Mr. Fudge seized
him by the arm—a proceeding which caused Mazard to
bark violently, as if he were already prepared to resent any
rough treatment to which Mr. P. might be subjected—Mr.
Fudge, we say, seized his friend by the arm, and walked
him straight off to his own room.
■  If you stir from this apartment, said Mr. Fudge,  till
you hear me whistle 1 Rule Britannia,7 I will not move
another step in this transaction ; and Mazard, depend upon
it, will never be yours.
With these words Mr. F. closed the door upon his friend
and returned once more to the charge. The discussion that
followed was a long one. Of all the obstinate young women
that France could produce, the patissiere appeared to be the
very flower and cream. At length came that inevitable
moment in French bargaining when one or other of the
parties makes a move towards breaking up the interview.
Mr. Fudge, rising from the sette, remarked that it was an
uncomfortable spot for conversational purposes, and that,
therefore, he would not venture, as they could not come to
terms, to detain the young lady any longer. The owner of
Mazard, at this hint, of course prepared to depart; linger-
ing, however, a moment, she remarked that it was always
her wish to be as agreeable as possible. Mr. Fudge replied
^BARGAINING.
183
that it was not only her wish, font as far as he could judge,
her invariable practice. The young lady, who had
descended one step—Mazard, who had used up the whole
affair, was half-way downstairs—the young lady re-ascended
the stair, and said that if a concession of twenty-five francs
would arrange it, she was ready to accept one hundred and
seventy-five. Mr. Fudge regretted that his friend could
only give a hundred. His friend was a stern and ferocious
character, and he dared not propose giving more to him.
At this the young lady once more took her departure, and
Mazard was heard barking in the street.
Mr. Fudge was just getting his mouth into the requisite
shape for whistling  Rule Britannia as a signal that the
affair was over, when the voice of the patissiere was heard
once more upon the staircase. A vision of 45 bis had risen
up before her, and in the agony caused her by this appari-
tion she yielded one step more. Positively, for the last
time, she had just this one more thing to say. It was a
day of great concessions, and to get the affair off her mind
she would accept one hundred and fifty francs.
Mr. Fudge was inexorable. He had been empowered to
offer a hundred francs, his friend was a demon of obstinacy,
and there was an end of the affair.
Indeed, it appeared as if it were likely to prove so. The
young lady flounced down the stairs, and forgetting her
desire to be agreeable, gave vent to some of those remarks
with regard to the English nation, which are invariably
-called forth whenever its representatives object to fulfil
their proper destiny on the continent, and decline to be
cheated.
The affair, then, was over. Mr. Fudge whistled  Rule
Britannia, and Mr. Pinchbold emerged from his retreat.
 Well! he exclaimed.
 All right, answered Mr. Fudge,
 Have you got the dog ? asked Mr. Pinchbold.
"No, replied Mr. Fudge.
Then how is it all right? inquired his friend, eagerly.
184
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
 Because, answered Mr. Fudge,  if you will give her
time enough she will come round.
 She will not, said Mr. Pinchbold.
 Where are you going ? said Mr. Fudge, catching at
his friend's arm.
Mr. Pinchbold made no answer; he burst from his com-
panion's grasp, and commenced descending the stairs at a
pace which rendered pursuit useless. Mr. Fudge returned
to his room, and unlocking his desk, placed a formidable
array of pens, ink, and paper upon the table.
 At all events, he said to himself,  we'll have it down
in black and white.
It was not long before Mr. Pinchbold returned with the
patissiere and Mazard at his heels. He had found them,
he said, fortunately standing just outside the door of the
hotel.
The young lady remarked that she was waiting for a
fiacre. She was now all smiles and politeness once more;
for it is a characteristic of French .bargains that the same
person who has treated you with malignant detestation
during the progress of the transaction, becomes the most
amiable of individuals directly the affair is concluded, and
the enemy's gold about to pass into his pocket.
And the affair ivas concluded. In the brief interval
which had elapsed between Mr. Pinchbold's descent of the
staircase and his re-ascent of it in company with the
patissiere, he had learnt the lady's final decision on the
subject of the purchase, and had given his consent thereto.
 This is the last bargain I will conduct for you, said
Mr. Fudge to his friend. But he did not mean a word he
said.
There remained still much to be settled, the great diffi-
culty being, of course, with Mazard himself. How was he
to be persuaded to change owners ? It really seemed a
positive insult to the animal to ask him to abandon the
pastrycook's shop ; and it must not be concealed that both
Mr. Fudge and his friend felt almost ashamed of taking him
THE TRANSFER EFFECTED.
185
away from the sphere to which he seemed so legitimately to
belong. The patissiere was of opinion—and Mr. Fudge
entirely agreed with her—that it would be perfectly impos-
sible for them to have possession of the dog while they
remained in Paris; indeed, they would have to keep a
sharp look-out upon him, she thought, even after they had
left that city. Mr. Pinchbold was too much occupied in
feeding his new purchase with lumps of sugar from the tea-
basket to enter into this discussion, but he at once saw the
truth of this view of the case.
 For heaven's sake ! then, said he,  let us leave Paris
at once, and get it over, for"—he had got wonderfully
canine all at once— I can't get on without my dog.
It was at length arranged, as the only feasible plan, that
Mazard was to be looked upon as Mr. Pinchbold's property,
but that he was to remain in his own quarters till Mr. P.
left Paris; that gentleman having the right to go to the
pastrycook's whenever he liked in the meantime, and to
take every measure he could to win the dog's affection, or,
at least, to get him well accustomed to his presence, so that,
when the great moment for his final kidnapping should take
place, the dog might feel that he had a friend to fall back
upon in Francis Pinchbold.
Now came the great money question. The fair patissiere
suggested that her terms were cash ; while Mr. Fudge con-
tended equally strongly for payment on delivery. Mr.
Pinchbold had, of course, once more lapsed altogether out
of the transaction, and was spoken of as if he were in some
distant European capital—say Brussels—as  the friend,
This discussion about terms was so long and intricate a one
that it threatened once more to unsettle the whole affair.
The young lady, as the reader knows, wanted money at
once; and Mr. Fudge would not let her have it. At
length, and after a great deal of talking, a compromise was
effected, and Mr. Fudge yielded so far as to agree to give
half the purchase-money at ones, and the other half when
his friend should become possessed of the dog. The
186
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
patissiere, feeling that with seventy-five francs down, and
another seventy-five in near prospect, she could obtain all
the requisite means of crushing her enemy, consented to
these terms, and gave her signature to the following docu-
ment:—>
 I, the undersigned, have received from Francis Pinch-
bold, barrister-at-law, the sum of seventy-five francs, being
half the purchase-money for a white Pomeranian dog, with
tan ears, and otherwise marked with the same colour;
which dog I hereby pledge myself to deliver over to him,
on payment of the second half of the entire sum of one
hundred and fifty francs, for which amount I sell and make
over the said dog, whose name is Mazard, to the said
Francis Pinchbold, barrister-at-law, as aforesaid.
(Signed)  Hortense Louise Pilyser.
From that time Mr. Pinchbold was for ever rushing off
to the pastrycook's shop. Indeed, he Avas there so often,
and for such long periods, that he got at last to be looked
upon as one of the establishment, and Mr. Fudge, going
there in search of him one day, met him coming up the
stairs from the bakehouse Avith a tray of jam tarts, which
he Avas carrying Avith the object, as he said, of making
Mazard believe that he was part and parcel of the concern.
For the rest, the dog really seemed to know and appreciate
his new master, and would folloAv him doAvn a street or two
every time he left the shop.
But all this, of course, only made Mr. Pinchbold more
anxious to possess his favourite altogether, and iqade
him look fonvard more eagerly every day to the time
of their quitting Paris.
187
CHAPTER XI.
in which tex another character destined to plat an im-
portant part in these pages comes upon the scene; and
in which there reallt seems a chance op "the cruise
being resumed after all.
At last there came a morning when Mr. Fudge, uttering
the well-known formula in a more decisive tone than usual,
said—
 Now, I'll tell you what, Pinchbold. I propose that we
do make just one more attempt, which shall really and
positively be the last. I propose that we do now—what,
probably, it would have been better if we had done in the
first instance—that we speak to the master of the hotel on
the subject of our journey, and ask him if he happens to
know of any one who has a horse to sell.
The Hotel du Helder is by no means a  horsey hotel,
and has no stable or stableyard attached to its premises.
The owner, on being consulted by Mr. Fudge on the subject
mentioned, affirmed candidly enough that it was a thing
altogether out of his line, but he said, at the same time,
that he had a friend who was engaged in the harness trade,
and who always knew—and indeed, made it his business to
know—of a variety of horses at all sorts of prices, and
possessed of all sorts of qualifications, which happened to
be for sale. His friend, he added, was a good judge of
horses, and what was more, was a man for whose integrity
and good faith he could vouch. He would see M. Grandal
which Avas his friend's name—in the course of the day,
and if Mr.  Fodge and his friend wished it, he would
188
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
acquaint him with their need, and set him to work to supply
it. The two friends held a short consultation, and then
gratefully accepted their host's offer. They were to have a
personal interview with M. Grandal that very evening, at
dinner-time.
And now that the affair seemed really once more in train,
Mr. Pinchbold was again seized with one of his worst
attacks of despondency in connexion with the different
sources of apprehension with which the minds of those who
had anything to do with horses must, according to him, of
necessity be racked. The worthy gentleman spent the day
in ruminating on all the numerous forms of accident to
which the peculiar nature of their contemplated journey
would expose them. When Mr. Fudge came in from
walking about the streets of Paris—Mr. Pinchbold having
excused himself from accompanying his friend by alleging,
as usual, the necessity under which he found himself of
■writing some  letters on business"—he found his friend
surrounded with several sheets of paper, on which he had
written,  Paris, Hotel du Helder, and  My dear sir,
very symmetrically, and had then, unable, as it appeared, to
advance farther, been seized with epistolatory paralysis, and
betaken himself to the sister art of drawing as a means of
occupying his time.
The efforts of Mr. Pinchbold's genius bore evidence, as
will sometimes happen with great artists, of the peculiar
condition of his mind at the period of their production, his
drawings being representations of certain crises of peril to
which those who travel in carrioles are peculiarly liable.
The first of Mr. Pinchbold's designs showed the danger
to which such persons would be liable, and the incon-
veniences to which they would be subject, if they had the
ill-luck to meet with a kicking horse.
The second, those to which they would be liable if a run-
away animal fell to their share.
The third explained what might result from the purchase
of a quadruped given to rearing in the air.
THE LAST ATTEMPT-
189
And the fourth, the disastrous ruin which a horse pos-
sessing all these characteristics would possibly entail upon
the carriole and its occupants.
From such morbid and distressing subjects of contem-
plation Mr. Fudge aroused his friend, in order to bear him
off to the salle-a-manger where they were to dine, and
where they expected to hear news of their host's friend, M.
Grandal.
The salle-a-manger was full of people seated at the dif-
ferent tables, either waiting for the dinners they had ordered,
or engaged in eating them. There was not one of these
persons who was not electrified with astonishment when a
thing so unusual as the entrance into the court-yard (on
which the windows of the salle-a-manger gaze) of a man on
horseback took place. Mr. Fudge himself looked up from
his soup in surprise at the sound, for neither horse nor
carriage had ever entered that yard within his experience,
and he had often stayed at the Hotel du Helder.
 How embarrassing for us if it should be 
 M. Grandal has brought a horse for you to examine,
gentlemen, said the head waiter, in a loud tone, advancing
to the table occupied by the two Englishmen.
It is a dreadful thing to relate an act of social treachery
on the part of a person whom the reader esteems, as we
trust he does Mr. Pinchbold, but truth compels us to state,
that at this particular moment he altogether deserted his
companion in misfortune, shrouding himself behind a news-
paper, and leaving Mr. Fudge, with the gaze of all the eyes
belonging to all the guests in the salle-a-manger fixed upon
him as he marched out of that apartment in obedience to
the waiter's summons. It is only justice to Mr. Pinchbold,
however, to mention that remorse took possession of him to
such an extent after Mr. Fudge's departure, that in a very
few moments he cast aside his Galignani and followed him.
Mr. Pinchbold found his friend in conversation with a
stranger, who, as far as the darkness would allow him to
see, appeared to be a young man of about two or three and
190
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
thirty, of a slight' figure, with an intelligent and prepos-
sessing countenance. He was standing by the side of a'
rather small, but finely-formed black horse, from which he
had just dismounted.
We find from Mr. Pinchbold's diary that his first im-
pression of this animal was of a favourable nature.  I'
know nothing about horses, writes Mr. P.,  but I fancy I
know something of character as externally developed, and I
was much struck with the air of intelligence and good
humour which pervaded the appearance of the animal
submitted to our inspection this day. He seemed to me to1
have a good eye, with, by the bye, a good notion of using
it, for he was looking round at my friend Fudge, or at me,
or at M. Grandal, who brought him, all the time that our
interview with that gentleman lasted.
Mr. Fudge was in truth not less satisfied with the appear-
ance of the horse which M. Grandal had brought, than was
his friend Mr. Pinehbold. The animal before him stood'
about fourteen and a half hands, but, owing to the nature
of his proportions, he gave the impression of being some-
what larger than he really was. It was a good shape for
work, large and deep in the chest, not too long in the leg,
and well developed in the muscular system. A critic might
have discovered that this horse was a thought too small in
the hind quarters, that his haunches were a hair's breadth
higher than they ought to be in comparison with the crest,
and that—it added, by the bye, very much to his beauty—
his hoofs were almost alarmingly small. Altogether he was
a comfortable horse to look at, and Mr. Fudge owned to
his friend that, if he had listened to the promptings of his
inclination, he would have concluded his purchase from the
moment when he felt him nibbling at his coat-tails while he
was talking to M. Grandal.
Of course, at a first interview, and in the dark, it was
quite impossible to conclude anything; so an appointment
had to be made next day, for an examination and trial of
the horse. This done, M. Grandal got into the saddle once
SOCIAL TREACHERY.
191
more, and rode out of the court-yard of the hotel. There
were some repairs going on in connexion with the pavement
of this enclosure, and the men were working by lamplight.
As M. Grandal rode past the spot where these repairs were
going on, the horse started at the lantern which was placed
on the ground.
11 Ah, I don't like that, said Mr. Pinchbold, who, as
well as his friend, was watching the horse as it took its
departure.
 There is no horse in the world who would not do as
much, Mr. Fudge answered.
 The horse is an awful animal, remarked Mr. Pinch-
bold, gloomily ; and they went in to dinner, the company
in the salle-a-manger—they had been watching the two
friends during their interview with M. Grandal—regarding
them with mingled admiration and distrust, just as the idea
that they were two milords making arrangements to win a
race, or a couple of horse dealers making a bargain, hap-
pened to be predominant in their minds.
The next day enters upon the scene that unbearable
character—an old soldier. The old soldier had charge of
the horse which M. Grandal had brought to the hotel on
the preceding day, and from that horse he was not to be
separated. The horse did not belong to him, of course;
neither did it belong to M. Grandal. Does—it may here
be asked—a horse that is for sale ever belong to anybody ?
There are two transactions in which no principal has ever
yet been treated with—the sale of a horse and a money
loan. This old soldier was an awful bore. He was, or
professed to be, brother to the horse's real owner, who was
said to be a medical man, who was selling his horse because
he had had enough of civilized life, and was going to set up
in business in Africa. There was an invigorating proba-
bility about this story, which, as Mr. Fudge remarked to
his friend, made the transaction in every way satisfactory.
However, there the horse was, looking to quite as great
advantage in the broad daylight as he had looked in the
192
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
dusk of the evening. There he was ready to be tried, and
there was M. Grandal ready to assert that the animal,
which he had known for some years, was a beast which they
might depend upon. Now, the two friends had these
reasons for relying upon what M. Grandal said. They had
perfect confidence in the integrity of the owner of the Hotel
du Helder, and he had told them that they might have
equal confidence in his friend M. Grandal. In addition to
this, they had conceived an agreeable impression of M.
Grandal himself from his appearance and behaviour, which
had not been diminished by his cautioning them that the
old soldier was a scamp, and that they need not listen to a
word that he said.
There never was such an aggravating old soldier as that
old soldier who had charge of the emigrating surgeon's
horse. If he had only been contented with being an old
soldier, without for ever dragging the fact that he had been
so into the conversation, the thing might have been borne.
But he never would let his former profession rest; and,
what was more remarkable, he seemed to consider it a kind
of guarantee for his present integrity, as if the fact that he
had once been a soldier proved to a dead certainty that he
was possessed of every virtue, and incapable of any base or
treacherous proceeding. He sat beside Mr. Fudge during
the trial of the little horse (M. Grandal and Mr. Pinchbold
occupying the back seat), and to every question that Mr.
Fudge asked, to every doubt which he suggested, opposed
this infernal old soldierhood as an answer, beyond which
there was no appeal. Did Mr. Fudge inquire of this
gentleman if he was quite sure that the little horse was
only six years and a half old, this aggravating individual
passionately replied that he was an old soldier; was it
likely he would deceive ? Did Mr. Fudge again venture
on a question as to the animal's lungs, he was again informed
that it was not the custom of old soldiers to sell broken-
winded horses. This was, then, the answer to every
question. Did the horse ever shy ?—He was an old soldier.
THE "OLD SOLDIER.
193
Did it ever stumble ?—He was an old soldier. Did it bolt 3
—He was an old soldier. Was it quiet in the stable ?—--
Old soldier. Easy to harness ?—Old soldier. Was it, in-
fact, sound in wind and limb ?—Old soldier.
Mr. Fudge at length got so tired of this answer that hcl-
desisted from further questioning, and confined himself to-
forming such an opinion as he could from the conduct of
the horse itself which he was engaged in driving. This
was satisfactory enough. They drove through all sorts of
crowded streets, up the steep incline of the Eue d'Amster-
dam, and down the hill which forms the Eue Blanche,
They circulated about the quarter of the Madeleine, and-
touched upon the Boulevart, returning to the Eue Basse
des Eamparts, where M. Grandal resided, after what was
upon the whole a very satisfactory excursion.
The friends now required a little time for consultation
before they finally decided. This, however, was very dis-
tasteful to the old soldier, who remarked that gentlemen in
his former profession were in the habit of forming rapid
decisions, and acting upon them, in short, like old soldiers.
To which Mr. F. replied, that as he had not the advantage
of being an old soldier himself, he preferred looking before
he leapt, and that he would give a final answer in the even-
ing. In the course of the afternoon our two friends, in
company with M. Grandal, visited a horse belonging to a
butcher, which appeared to have every defect which could
be compressed into the compass of a single animal; and a
horse belonging to a baker, which had no defect at all
except an inconvenient propensity, when requested to start,
to stand erect upon its hind legs, and paw the air, during a
period varying from thirty to thirty-five minutes, at the
expiration of which time it was in the habit of bolting, and,
having great resources of wind and limb, it never stopped
till some insurmountable object arrested its headlong career.
Eesisting the fascinations of both these animals, concerning;
which their owners averred, with some truth, that their
like was seldom to be met with, our two friends returned
o
194
a cruise upon wheels.
to their hotel to hold a last solemn consultation, which
ended, as the reader has doubtless anticipated, in their em-
powering M. Grandal to treat wi£h the old soldier, or with
the civilization-wearied surgeon, for the purchase of the
little horse.
Of course the sum named by Mr. Fudge, as his and his
friend's ultimatum was lower than that originally named by
him of the African longings. Of course the old soldier
swore that no old soldiers ever accepted less than they
originally demanded. Of course he strengthened his
position by affirming that his brother, though  his boat
was on the shore, and his bark was on the sea, and though
"his heart was in the desert healing the Arab, would
rather forswear his most darling project and return to civi-
lization and his one-horse chaise than diminish one franc of
the purchase-money originally mentioned. Of course, M.
Grandal vowed that his clients did not want to buy the
horse; and, of course, the old soldier asseverated that he of
the Arab yearnings did not want to sell the horse. Of
course, it never occurred to either party to inquire why,
under these circumstances, the transaction should take place
at all; and, of course, it ended in the old soldier accepting
what Mr. Fudge offered, and being very glad to get it.
Let us hope that he handed the proceeds of the sale to his
medical brother intact, and that that gentleman may be
•doing a spanking business at this moment in the great
Sahara.
Our two travellers could hardly believe it possible that
they were once more possessed of the means of continuing
their journey. What, when they had been aground so
long, were they to be towed off once more ? Was the
shattered craft, the wreck of their darling project, to be
repaired and refitted with mast and sail, to be set afloat
■ once again, and started in even better trim than .at its first
launching ? Was the Cruise upon Wheels not. done with
-yet?
THE "MINGLED YARN.
195
Ups and downs; an hour of pleasure and an hour of
pain; a day of sunshine and a day of rain; hope in the
morning, despondency at noon; presently a half despair; a
flash of comfort soon—is not this the life we lead? A
mingled yarn, a web of black and white.
When Mr. Fudge went to fetch the carriole from the
stable where it had been put up, in order that both the
horse and the vehicle might be together at a certain manege
in the Chaussee D'Antin, which had been strongly recom-
mended to him, it happened that as he and M. Grandal
drove back (M. Grandal having the reins) they passed, in
the dusk of the evening, a place where the road had been
opened, where labourers were throwing earth up in spades-
ful, the whole being lighted by a flaring jet of gas. When
they came opposite this place the little horse was seized
with a paroxysm of fear, and flung himself to the other
side of the road, executing the most violent and unmis-
takeable shy from right to left that Mr. Fudge had ever
witnessed. The horse was got right again after a short
delay, and nothing further happened on the way to the
manege; but Mr. Fudge was considerably dashed by the
prospect that this accident laid open, and he thought of
night journeys, of arriving in the dark at strange places,
with flashing lights about. He remembered that, according
to the map, the railroad ran for miles beside those deserted
post roads of France on which they were to travel; and as
he thought of these things he almost repented of his
purchase. As for M. Grandal, he seemed even more dis-
composed at what had happened than Mr. Fudge himself;
and as they parted it was agreed that there should be a
further trial of the horse before the journey was recom-
menced, and that if there was anything more of the kind
they had just seen, M. Grandal would do all in his power
to rid them of their newly purchased horse, or to get it
exchanged for another.
Mr. Fudge made somewhat light of what had happened
o 2
196
A CRUISE UPON "WHEELS.
in describing it to Mr. Pincbbold; and his account of the
accident was very far—as all accounts are—from conveying
in full force the idea of what had occurred.
Along the whole extent of the Champs Elysees, through
the barrier, and straight down the long broad road to which
it gives access, and then through some iron gates into the
Bois de Boulogne, in and out among the smaller alleys
which intersect that pretty park throughout, back by the
Avenue de l'lmperatrice, again through the barrier, and
then by the crowded Faubourg St. Honore—detestable
thoroughfare—home. This was the route chosen for the
trial trip; and, during the whole time that it lasted, the
behaviour of the little horse was, with the exception of
certain occasional startings, and a tendency to look askance
at certain objects by the roadside, very satisfactory both to
Mr. Fudge and M. Grandal, who accompanied him. There
remained one more test which it seemed desirable to apply,
and this was a night drive in the streets of Paris. The
 shy had occurred in the dark, and was caused by a
flaring gaslight, so it occurred to Mr. Fudge that it would
be a good thing to try the new horse at night; and see
whether he really was especially nervous at that time, and
more liable to shy than at others.
About six o'clock, then, on the evening of the 2nd of
October, Mr. Fudge, accompanied by his friend, Mr.
Pinchbold, who insisted on going with him, in order that
he might judge for himself how far the new horse was to be
trusted—Mr. Fudge and his friend, we say, set off for an
evening drive about the streets of Paris. It was a curious
experience, to be driving about that great town by night,
and to be threading their way in their rough country
vehicle among the carriages, the fiacres, and omnibuses,
which were flashing about in the darkness. Somehow or
other this evening drive was a very pleasant one. The
behaviour of the little horse was unexceptionable; and
when Mr. Fudge had put him to the final test of taking
him past the very spot where the great shy had taken
TRIAL TRIPS.
197
place, both gentlemen thought that their new purchase had
been tried quite enough; and Mr. Pinchbold was even
disposed to rally his companion upon the degree of anxiety
he had manifested on this occasion.
 You are getting rather nervous about horses, said Mr.
Pinchbold, jauntily, as they descended from the vehicle at
the stables. "You must correct that, Fudge.
Mr. Fudge smiled, and the two friends set off in high
spirits to Champfeaux's, where they were to eat the last
dinner which they were to partake of in Paris for some
time to come.
For the next day was to be rendered for ever memorable,.
by the recommencement of their journey. On the next
day they were to take their seats in the carriole once more
with their faces turned to Geneva. Surely this was
appetizing thought. M. Champeaux's excellent fare tasted
all the better from the sensation experienced by both our
friends as they partook of it, that they were to be off the
next day, for it is an indispensable part of all perfect
enjoyment that the pleasure of which you are partaking
should have, outside and beyond it, something in store
even better than itself. The schoolboy's Saturday half-
holiday would be nothing, if the Sunday at home did not
loom brightly beyond it in the distance.
198
CHAPTER XII.
bather a long chapter, containing much important matter,,
and showing how the travellers made a new start, how
mazart) was kidnapped, how the little horse behaved,
and how mr. pinchbold sat up all night.
The chronicler of this journey, undertaken by the two
English gentlemen, whose fortunes we have followed thus-
far, is so rejoiced to see them again about to start and in a
fair way of carrying out their arduous undertaking, that
he cannot help expressing a hope that the reader, too,
shares his delight, and is glad to find them about, once
more, to take the road.
It ivill be seen by reference to the map of France, that
the road is long, and that the space between Paris and
Geneva is a considerable one. Our travellers knew nothing
of the line of route, and had, indeed, except that one franc
map which Mr. Fudge had purchased at Malaise, nothing
at all to guide them. Pondering over this sheet, the two
friends had come to the conclusion that their plan was to
make first of all gradually for Auxerre, approaching it by
Corbeil, Fontainebleau, Montereau, Sens, and Joigny. The
next point to aim at would be Dijon, situated in the heart
of the Cote d'Or. This place would have to be attained by
Tonnerre, Ancy le Franc, Montbard. After Montbard
the way seemed to become confused, and the road doubtful,
while, beyond Dijon, there seemed more than one course
open to them, more than one route for reaching—or not
reaching, as the case might be—the great end of their
ME. PINCHBOLD S COSTUME.
199
undertaking; the goal which they had set before them as
the termination of their course.
So much the map showed them. But there was a great
deal the map did not show them. It did not show them
the nature of the road, the hills that would double the
length of a day's journey, and make what seemed a short
course on the map, an impossibly long one; these things
they had no means of guessing at, and as to that dim,
grey shadow which the map engraver had dotted irregularly
on the confines of the department of the Jura, what notion
did that give of the difficulties which that mysterious
region, marking the line of separation between France and
Switzerland, and marking it, too, with so rough a hand,
might have in store for them ?
Mr. Fudge rose on the morning of Tuesday, the second
of October, with—for a man of two-and-thirty—a light
heart and a sanguine anticipation of all that this day, and
many other days beyond it, had in store. His travelling
costume, substituted over night for the more townish garb
which it had been necessary to wear at Paris, lay ready to-
be put on, and it was with unfeigned satisfaction that he
found himself once more about to assume the heavy boots,
the long leather gaiters—the last stained yet with the mud
of the previous journey—which, with a loose coat, and an
old wide-awake hat, formed a comfortable, if not a fashion-
able tout ensemble.
Mr. Pinchbold's get-up was of a somewhat more elabo-
rate description, and consisted of a complete shooting
costume of one colour, and a cap of that peculiar make
which is so often seen in France, and which that military
nation has copied from the head-dress ordinarily worn by
the soldiers of the Empire—a cap with a horizontal, almost
an upturned brim, such as is more especially worn by the
Sergens de Ville of the French metropolis. It was part of
Mr. Pinchbold's idea, that it was very desirable that in the
course of their journey he and his friend should wear, as
much as possible, the appearance of denizens of the French
200
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
Boil, in order that it might not be suspected that they were
possessed of those fabulous riches which are ascribed to the
English, and a reputation for which might draw down upon
them those disasters in the shape of robbery and murder—
not to speak of the lesser evils of extortion and cheating—
which Mr. Pinchbold was always looking forward to with
dread and apprehension. It was with this view, then, that
the cap just mentioned had been selected by Mr. Pinchbold
as the right and proper head-dress for his journey, and it
was with this view also, that the same gentleman had
cultivated the small upturned moustache, and the Vandyke
beard, with which after much labour he had managed to
decorate his countenance. In short, Mr. P. had done all
he could to make himself look like a Frenchman, but
nature had not fulfilled her part towards carrying out this
consummation, and had left his countenance without those
marks of low materialism, of avarice and sensuality, which
would have helped him better than either cap or beard to
perform his assumed part with success.
It had been mentioned in the fourth chapter of this
narrative, in which the original start of our two travellers
from Malaise is commemorated, that it was with infinite
difficulty that they got off, and that an endless amount of
.final impediments delayed them at the last moment, so
much that they could hardly get off at all. Now, many as
were the causes of delay on the occasion of the first setting
off of Mr. Fudge and his friend from Malaise, and great as
the difficulty was of getting under weigh on that occasion,
it was nothing at all in comparison with what they ex-
perienced in making a first move away from Paris.
The start was not to be from the hotel, but from M.
Grandal's place of business, for Bijou's harness had been
removed there in order to be altered so as to fit her sue-
•cessor. The collar was not yet completed, and the different
'trials of the new horse had been made with a collar borrowed
from M. Grandal for the purpose. It was deemed, then,
-the best plan to drive round by his house, and change the
PACKING UP.
201
collars there, and it was thought also desirable to send the
luggage to the same place, as packing the carriole in the Rue
du Helder, and in front of a fashionable hotel, was an under-
taking for which neither of our friends felt much inclination.
There was a great deal of packing to do, and very little
time and very little space in which to effect it. There
was a trunk to be left behind in charge of the maitre
d'liotel, which trunk was to be forwarded after the travellers,
if they ever succeeded in reaching Geneva. Then it was
necessary to decide what things were to be consigned to
this box, and what they actually required to have with
them, and any one who has ever had to form this decision
for himself will be well aware of the agonies of doubt
which must be gone through before any certain conclusions
on such a subject can be arrived at. To begin with—it is
necessary, of course, to put away into the trunk that is
left behind everything that we can by any possibility want,
leaving out all sorts of impossible objects which no circum-
stances that can by any means be expected to occur can
ever render of the slightest use. It is necessary, also,
that the box or valise in which the things to be left behind
are placed, should be carefully locked, and strapped or
corded into the bargain—it is necessary, we say, that all
these things should be, and further, that we should be in a
desperate hurry to start, before we shall be able to find out
what things we ought—or rather, ought not—to make over
to that tremendous instrument of punishment—the trunk
which we will have sent after us.
The packing up, then, Avas a long affair, and it was noon
before the porter was despatched to M. Grandal's with the
luggage. The next thing to do was to go in search of the
carriole, but even this was not effected Avithout delay. The
carriole and horse were put up at a certain manege, or
riding-school, the OAvner of Avhich, having a great deal of
business on his hands, was increasing his stock of horses.
This gentleman had cast an eye of favour upon the quad-
ruped belonging to our two travellers, and had distinctly
202
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
hinted at his readiness to purchase it if they felt inclined to
sell, and his still greater readiness to offer in exchange for
the little horse, a great lumbering brute of his own, which
he affirmed was better suited to their purpose. Now, Mr.
Fudge and his friend were getting, on the subject of horses
and everything connected with them, exceedingly suspicious
and mistrustful. When Mr. F., therefore, found that this
equestrian gentleman was so sweet upon their recent
purchase, it occurred to him that if the riding-master knew
when the start was to take place, he might play some trick
or other with the little horse, unfitting him for the journey,
that he might keep him himself, and then suggest his own
overgrown beast as a substitute. So our two friends
resolved to say nothing at all about their journey till the
very moment of their departure.
The consequence of this extraordinary, but perhaps
excusable, degree of suspiciousness was, that when our
travellers arrived at the manege, they found nothing in
readiness for them. The horses in the stables had not yet
had their midday feed, and as the travellers meant to drive-
straight to Corbeil without stopping en route, it was neces-
sary that their horse should have his oats before starting.
They had to wait a long time for this. All the horses were
fed in rotation, and theirs must wait till his turn came.
Then, of course, some time was consumed in the act of
eating, and more again in that of harnessing and putting to.
The next thing to do was to pay the bill, and then the
riding-master, being made aware of their intended
departure, was very urgent in his representations of the
unfitness for purposes of travelling of their own horse, and
of the singular suitableness of his own animal for a long and
fatiguing journey. Our travellers were, .however, deaf to-
these amiable suggestions, and left their kind adviser calling
after them that if they saw cause to alter their decision and
return, he would at any time buy their little horse of them,
or give them the Gross Bay, as the animal was called, in
exchange for it.
LAST PREPARATIONS.
203
At M. Grandal's everything was in readiness. Indeed,
throughout every part of every transaction in which this
gentleman had a hand, there ran a punctuality and straight-
forwardness which left nothing to be desired. He promised
nothing that he did not perform. He undertook nothing
that he did not carry through. Such qualities as these of M.
Grandal's must needs have come out with an especial bril-
liancy when compared with the roguery and deceit which
our travellers had been accustomed to find invariably mixed
up with all matters in which that noble animal, the horse,
had any share. Also had Mr. Fudge conceived in his own
mind the idea of offering some little tribute at parting to these
excellent and rare characteristics of his new acquaintance.
In the courtyard which lay at the back of M. Grandal's
premises, our travellers found, to begin with, the porter
waiting with their luggage, and a little group, consisting of
M. Grandal himself, his brother, and a stranger whom
neither Mr. Fudge nor his friend had seen before. This
person was introduced to them by M. Grandal in the
capacity of one who, having formerly been a Government
courier, was well acquainted with the road to Switzerland,
and able to afford them any information they might want.
Mr. Fudge lost no time in consulting the ex-courier on
their line of route. Mr. F. traced it correctly enough as
far as Dijon, but beyond that place it appeared that there were
two roads, between which it would be necessary to choose.
One which, stretching away to the south by Beaune,
Chalons, and Macon, would conduct them to Geneva, but
by a long and circuitous road. The other, by Dole and
Poligny, which went straight to the mark, but over a more
mountainous line of country than the other. The courier
shook his head when Mr. Fudge spoke of following this
last route, and said that he thought by the time they had
had a taste of the Val de Suzon, which lay just before
Dijon, they would be inclined to have as little to do with
mountains as possible. This man seemed, altogether, dis-
posed to take rather a gloomy view of the undertaking, and
A CRUISE UPON "WHEELS.
spoke of the mountains of the Jura as of obstacles, the full
force of which the travellers had little idea of. Altogether,
the assembled party was not a cheerful one. M. Grandal
adverted once again to the formidable shy which had taken
place in the streets of Paris, and said that it had cost him
much uneasiness since. His brother suggested the precau-
tion of driving, at first at any rate, with double reins, which
Mr. Fudge adopted, and the ex-courier said—
 So you intend crossing the Jura in a Flemish carriole,
and with one unassisted horse.
"We intend to try, answered Mr. Fudge.
The luggage was now secured in its place. The new
collar had been substituted for the borrowed one, the
double reins had been adjusted, and everything was ready
at last for a move. Mr. Fudge took the opportunity to
draw M. Grandal aside, and expressed in a few words his
sense of the obligation he and his friend were under for the
services M. Grandal had rendered them.
It has been mentioned in describing Mr. Fudge's travel-
ling costume that it was not characterized by any very great
splendour of decoration. If it had been added that his
appearance verged on the seedy, it would not have conveyed
a false impression to the reader. Nay, it is even question-
able whether if you had gone the length of asserting that
this good gentleman's attire was extremely shabby you
would have spoken in stronger language than the tact
justified. There was but one decorative feature in his whole
costume, it was a small horse-shoe pin that held together
the neckcloth with which his red flannel shirt was girt
about where it came in contact with his throat. Mr. Fudge's
fingers were fidgeting about this little trinket as he spoke
to M. Grandal.
 I thank you with all my heart, said Mr. Fudge,  in
behalf of my friend and myself, not only for the great trouble
you have bestowed on our affair, but still more for the real
interest which you have manifested in it throughout.
M. Grandal would not hear a word. He had done
LAST WOltDS.
205
nothing. He only hoped that the horse might turn out
tolerably suited to their purpose.
 And now, said Mr. Pudge, in conclusion, and taking
the horse-shoe out of his cravat,  I have to ask you to do
me one favour more.
 No, no, said M. Grandal, who saw what he was at.
"You must accept, forgiving its little worth, this small
token of gratitude.
 No, no, said M. Grandal, again,  I have done nothing,
I can receive no reward.
 No reward was dreamt of, urged Mr. Fudge.
 No, no ; no, no, reiterated M. Grandal again.
"You may refuse, said Mr. Fudge, "to accept a
reward, but you cannot, he added, sticking the pin into
M. Grandal's cravat,  you cannot reject what is offered you
as a friend.
The horse-shoe remained where Mr. Fudge had placed
it, and that gentleman jumped hastily into the carriole,
and took his place by Mr. Pinchbold, who was already
seated.
 Au revoir, messieurs, cried the two travellers as they
drove out into the street.
And a chorus rose from those they left behind, which
sounded cheerily enough :—
 Bon voyage.
The clocks were striking two as Mr. Fudge and his friend'
drove away from M. Grandal's door. They had now to go
in search of Mazard, after Avhich they must find their way
to the Barriere de Fontainebleau, and thence to Corbeil, a
distance of about four-and-twenty miles. It has been
mentioned that the street in which Mazard resided was a
by-street. Of course it did not lie in their route. Indeed,
if the truth must be owned, it lay very much out of their
route, and was approached by many intricate and difficult
ways, along which it was impossible to pass quickly, by
206
A CEUISE UPON WHEELS.
reasonpf the narrowness of the streets and the number-of
vehicles. It had been agreed in consulting upon the best
method of kidnapping the unfortunate Mazard, that the
only thing do do was to have recourse to a stratagem, and
to seduce him into the carriole under the impression that
his former mistress was to be his companion there. So it
was arranged that the patissiere was to go with them to the
Barrier, was then to get down, previously tying Mazard to
the back of the seat, that she was to walk a little distance
by the side of the vehicle within sight of the dog, and was
then gradually to fall behind and get back to Paris as best
she could. It was further decided that the dog should be
kept tied up where he was till they reached their resting-
place for the night, by which time they would be far from
Paris. The rest was left to Hope. Mazard was of a philo-
sophical disposition, and there seemed reason to believe that
he would find some consolation in the presence of Mr.
Pinchbold, of whom he had lately seen so much. At all
events it was only a question of time. Each day's journey
away from Paris would render the likelihood of Mazard's
attempting to escape a less one, while Mr. Pinchbold's hold
on his regard might also with each day's journey be
rationally expected to increase.
There never was Such a day of turmoil as this. It might
have been supposed that they had had enough to do
already, but their troubles were only beginning. Arrived
at the abode of Mazard there was a dreadful scene to go
through with the old lady, the mother of the dog's owner,
who raved and wept by turns, and swore that the dog
should never go. Mr. Fudge, who did not like to leave
the horse, which it may be here mentioned appeared to be
in a high state of fidgetiness and nervous irritability, was
obliged to exchange incivilities from the interior of the
•carriole with the old lady, threatening her with the law,
and brandishing her daughter's receipt before her eyes.
Even after this injured personage had .been somewhat
quieted by these means, and still more by witnessing with
KIDNAPPING.
207
her own eyes the payment of the second half of the pur-
chase-money, there was still much time lost in certain
compliments exchanged between her and her daughter
respecting the guardianship of the sum of money which
Mr. Pinchbold had just parted with.
Of courso all this had not taken place without the
assembling of a considerable number of that class of per-
sons, who are ever represented in the public streets, who
take a profound interest in the affairs of other people. No
person living, perhaps, had a greater objection to becoming
an object of popular interest than our friend Mr. Fudge.
The reader may therefore imagine what he underwent while
awaiting the final delivering up of Mazard outside the
pastrycook's shop. The persons assembled about the door
seemed fully aware of all that was going on, and were not
sparing in their comments upon the venality of the patis-
siere in parting with her dog, and in speculations as to
what the Englishmen meant to do with it, one party hold-
ing that they would turn him into a show, and another
maintaining, equally strongly, that they intended-—as was
the manner of the English nation—to eat him. In the
midst of all these discussions, and numerous jeering re-
marks as to the loss of sous that would accrue to the
establishment in consequence of the sale of Mazard, the
fair proprietress of that animal ascended to her place in
the interior of the carriole, where the dog was placed
beside her, and the vehicle was, amidst the gibes of the
populace and the curses of the old lady in the pastrycook's
shop, once more got under weigh, to Mr. Fudge's intense
relief. As to Mazard, nothing could exceed at present his
satisfaction at what was going forward. He seemed to
imagine that the carriole, everything it contained,, and the
horse that drew it, were all his own property, and were
assembled for his special benefit and glorification, as he
stood there balancing himself, with his legs very far apart,
on the top of a box, yelping and barking with all his
might.
208
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
It was about this time that the conduct of the little
horse began to develop itself in rather an unpleasant
manner. Whether it was that the noise made by the
triumphant Mazard was new and distasteful to him—■
whether he had a presentiment that a long journey was
before him, or from what other cause, it is not necessary
to inquire—but certain it is that he was in a very bad
humour, and that he took every possible opportunity of
showing it. Pie had managed to discover, by that extra-
ordinary power which horses possess, the bearings of his
stable, and at the corner of every street which led in this
direction there was a struggle, the horse wanting to go
one way, and his driver resolved upon going the other.
"What is he about? asked Mr. Pinchbold, as the
ill-disposed animal made a sudden plunge in a direc-
tion altogether opposed to that which it was their busi-
ness to pursue. "He seems to be beginning rather
badly.
Mr. Fudge made no answer, all his faculties being
absorbed in the efforts requisite for the avoidance of a col-
lision with some one of the numerous vehicles by which
they were surrounded, and against which the little horse
threatened by his irregular proceedings to bring them from
time to time in contact. They were now traversing the long
Boulevard near the Barriere d'Enfer (as our gay allies
have cheerfully named one of the southern entrances to
their town), when the little horse, catching sight of one of
the large thoroughfares which leads from the barrier just
named towards the centre of the town, made a sudden rush
at it, conceiving no doubt that his stable lay in that direc-
tion. Mr. Fudge, of course, pulled him up with all his
force; but the little horse had a hard mouth, and Mr. F.
was obliged to have recourse to the safety rein, which it
has been mentioned above had been added just before they
started. This rein having a much more powerful action
on the curb than that 'ordinarily used, the horse was
brought up instantly; but as if resenting the application
THE NEW HOESE.
209
of so severe a measure, and being equally ready to turn in
any direction but the right, he now flung himself to the
other side, and a fiacre happening at that moment to be
passing rather closely by them, he managed to bring him-
self and a portion of the carriole in pretty sharp contact
with its wheels.
There was no harm done; but the driver of the fiacre
swore, Mademoiselle the patissiere screamed, and Mazard
barked as if everything were coming to an end. As for
Mr. Pinchbold, it has been remarked at the commence-
ment of this narrative that his terrors were mainly
awakened by distant and improbable contingencies; while
at times, when there really seemed some present cause for
alarm, he would appear, inconsistently enough, tolerably
ready for the encounter.
As for the patissiere, the scheme of her gradual separa-
tioei from Mazard seemed likely to fall through, as she
expressed her firm determination not to proceed, after what
had occurred, a single inch farther in the carriole. There
was nothing for it, then, but to put her down at once—a
proceeding to which Mr. Fudge was but little opposed, as
her expressions of alarm at every fresh offence on the part
of the little horse confused and irritated him. There was
no time for leave-takings. The young lady was deposited
at the side of the Boulevard, the carriole moved on,
and the separation between Mazard and his mistress was
effected.
For some time the dog did not appear to realize fully
that his mistress was altogether separated from the vehicle,
but when he at last began to discover that this was so, our
two friends soon found that their anticipations of the
distressing nature of such a parting were rather under than
over the mark. The poor dog presented indeed a spectacle
of great misery, sometimes moaning and whining as he
looked up with an expostulatory air into Mr. Pinchbold's
face, and sometimes straining at the cord which held him
confined.
P
310
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
Surely our friends were haying a nasty time of it. The
little horse was still going on in the most obstreperous
manner, pulling first to one side, then to the other, alter-
nately slackening his pace till he almost came to a dead
stop, and then bolting suddenly forward at a furious pace,
besides incessantly tossing his head in the most aggravating
manner, and making incessant efforts with his tail to get
the reins underneath that appendage of his frame. It was
as much as Mr. Fudge could do to preserve anything like
a straight course. To make matters worse, our travellers
managed now to take a wrong turning, and after proceeding
down a long avenue which led to one of the barriers, they
found, after they had passed through it, that they were on
the Orleans route instead of that which led to Fontainebleau.
To have to turn back so late in the afternoon, giving the
little horse the additional chance of misbehaviour which
this apparent concession to his struggles stable-ward might
suggest, was really almost unbearable. Those persons who
are of an irritable fibre will be able to conceive that at
such a juncture the yelpings and whinings of the unhappy
Mazard were almost an unbearable addition to the troubles
of our unfortunate travellers. As if, too, to culminate
their trials, the men on guard at the barrier which they
were now obliged to pass in re-entering the town, made
every demonstration of a determination to, search their
vehicle, though it had only a few seconds before passed out
of the gate; nor was it without the most tremendous exer-
tion on the part of the two Englishmen that they were able
to persuade the Douaniers that they were not likely to have
picked up any exciseable goods in a drive of a hundred
yards and back again outside the gates.
As they drove once more towards the heart of Paris, the
little horse, now straining and pulling to get on j Mazard
uttering the most unearthly cries in the back of the car-
riole; and both gentlemen utterly worn out with the events
of the day and their long fast, for they had had nothing
since an early breakfast—at this time the Cruise upon.
ME. PINCHBOED'S DETERMINATION.
211
Wheels seemed once more in danger of an abrupt terniina-
tion, and the chances of its carrying out, like a clipped
guinea, trembled in the scale.
The greatest credit was due at this time to Mr. Pinch-
bold. If that gentleman had now expressed a wish to
abandon a project against which so many obstacles seemed,
from the first, to have placed themselves in array; if at
this moment, when everything seemed more than ever
discouraging, he had urged his friend to return, the
chances are that Mr. Fudge would have offered no oppo-
sition to his wishes. That gentleman had seen, which Mr.
Pinchbold had not, the determined shy of which the little
horse had been guilty on the first day of his purchase. He
remembered also the gravity which M. Grandal, who had
spent his life among horses, had attached to this offence,
and taking these things in connexion with the conduct of
the beast to-day, it certainly did appear to him, that for
a journey such as theirs, where the driver wished to have
his attention free, and to have eyes occasionally for other
things besides his horse's ears, they had scarcely got hold
of an animal suited to their purpose. If Mr. Pinchbold,
then, had spoken at that moment, it is not improbable that
there might have been an end of the journey. But he did
not speak, and they persevered.
They persevered at the point where the wilful little
beast had once more to be turned away from his stable.
They persevered against all his indications of obstinacy,
his startings aside, his stoppages, his boltings forward.
They persevered, till they got at last through the Barrier—
the right one this time—and out upon the straight paved
road, between the lines of trees, the road to Fontainebleau.
But it was late, very late in the afternoon, and the travellers
were so exhausted that they were obliged to have recourse
to a snack of biscuits and brandy, Mr. Pinchbold feeding
his companion (whose hands were both occupied with the
reins) with morsels which had been previously thoroughly
steeped in the contents of the flask. The stimulant of
p 2
212
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
which the travellers had partaken restored the use of
speech to Mr. Pinchbold, whom recent events had appa-
rently deprived of the power of articulating.
 We are going, said that gentleman,  to our doom.
1 do not the least object to it; but I feel a presentiment
■that we have not long to live.
 Things must be looking up, thought Mr. Fudge,  or
Francis Pinchbold would not be in such utter despair.
"When I think, continued Mr. P., "of all we have to
pass through, and observe the conduct of this detestable
animal, under circumstances so little trying, I can see but
one termination to our course.
 He is certainly, said Mr. Fudge, speaking, however,
in a cheerful tone, for the biscuit steeped in brandy (a
medicament, by the bye, which we strongly recommend to
the reader when he is going, like Messrs. Fudge and
Pinchbold, "to his doom") had done him good, "he is
certainly a hateful little miscreant.
 What can we expect, continued Mr. Pinchbold, on
whom the snack had produced an effect the reverse of that
which it had had upon his friend,  what at least can I
expect but misery, in return for having kidnapped and led
away from a happy home and a sphere which he adorned,
this miserable animal who is yelping and groaning behind
us?
 How does he look ? asked Mr. Fudge;  I am afraid
to turn round.
 He is most wretched, answered Mr. Pinchbold;  he
is at the end of his tether, and is gazing up at me with an
expression which makes me feel the most culpable of
human beings. Poor Mazard ! continued Mr. P., patting
his head. But the dog only answered with a yelp of
distress.
 I wonder when, and in what form, the doom will fall,
resumed Mr. Pinchbold.  Whether we shall be run
away with down hill and dashed to pieces, or cast over a
bridge into a raging torrent, or thrown down a precipice.
what's in a name ?
218
 He is going better now, remarked Mr. Fudge.
.  All deception,'4 replied Mr. Pinchbold.  He is only
lying in wait, to be guilty of fresh atrocities by-and-by.
From the time that the travellers had got at last com-
pletely clear of Paris, the little horse appeared to have
made up his mind to the situation, and had shown a
decided inclination to conduct himself better than he had
done in the streets of the metropolis.
"What shall we call him? asked Mr. Fudge, as they
were jogging along.
 The Destroyer, suggested Mr. Pinchbold, cheerfully.
 He has destroyed nothing yet, argued Mr. Fudge;
 we must not stigmatize him with such a title till he has
deserved it. You must try again.
Mr. Pinchbold tried again, more than once. All his
suggestions, however, were of the same gloomy nature
as the first, and Mr. Fudge would have nothing to say to
them.
"Well, then, said Mr. Pinchbold, at last, "give him a
name yourself.
Mr. Fudge pondered for a moment, and then said:
 There is a certain portion of this animal's costume—if I
may call it so—which has struck me as singularly out of
proportion to his frame. I have observed that in reducing
the rest of Bijou's harness, M. Grandal has left the blinkers
untouched, and consequently that those appendages are of
enormous magnitude.
 Now, what I have to suggest is, that just as a man who
mounts a pair of immense gills is quite certain to be called
among his intimates by the name of ' Collars,' so we, in
like manner, should call this little beast of ours by the
familiar name of Blinkers !
Mr. Pinchbold had only to object that the name was not-
enough suggestive of dark and sinister conduct to be
expected from the animal. He admitted, however, that he
had himself been struck by the great size of the blinkers
worn by the little horse, and he reminded Mr. Fudge that
214
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
when, in Martin Chuzzlewit, Bailey appears clad in one of
the boarder's cast-off shirts, a facetious gentleman gave
him the title of  Collars on the spot. So the name was
adopted.
 Yes, said Mr. Fudge, correcting a sudden plunge in
the direction of a lane leading out of the main road made
by the animal who had just been the subject of conversa-
tion,  you shall be called Blinkers, and you may think
yourself well off that it is no worse.
The attempt on the part of Blinkers to diverge 'from the
main road, which has just been mentioned, was by no
means a single and isolated instance of perversion. It Was
one of the most singular and aggravating characteristics of
this remarkable animal, that he never could resist a
turning; lead where it would, be the nature of the road
what it might, at it he invariably went directly he caught
sight of it. At a more advanced period of the journey,
and when a longer and more intimate acquaintance between
Blinkers and his driver had become developed, this peculiar
weakness became the subject of a sort of standing joke
between them. The horse got at last to know and acknow-
ledge his master, and to obey his voice as well as his hand,
Then would Mr. Fudge purposely slacken the rein as they
approached a turning. Blinkers, according to an established
form, would make a sidelong movement towards it; Mr. F.
would utter a cry of remonstrance, and Blinkers, laying
back his ears, and with a vicious shake of the head, would
return at once to the straight course, doing so, however,
under protest, and with a distinct assertion that he meant
to have a try at the next turning, notwithstanding.
The fact is that Blinkers was an Irish horse, a fact which
the connoisseur will recognise as at once a point in his
favour. He had, perhaps, something of Irish character
about him. He Was impulsive, irritable, alternately elated
and depressed, and very easily bored. The long straight
roads of France were peculiarly capable of developing
this quality; and hence, perhaps, his readiness to take
AN UNEXPECTED STOPPAGE.
any chance of a diversion to right or left that might offer
en route. All these things, however, were, at the point of
the journey where we now are, but imperfectly developed,
and Blinkers was still an object of suspicion to both our
travellers, an animal whose every movement it was necessary
to watch and observe carefully.
The road which the little party—for we must be allowed
henceforth to regard Mazard and Blinkers as members of
the group, of which Mr. Fudge and his friend occupy the
principal place—the road which they were pursuing was
one of those which are so common in France, and which
afford but little interest to the traveller. In a word, it was
a broad straight road, paved in the middle with a pavement
so rough that it almost jolted the bones out of their sockets
to drive over it. On each side of this pavement there was
a strip of even more impracticable roadway, abounding in
holes deeply rutted, and well sprinkled with loose stones.
On either side of the road was a row of trees, and beyond
these a flat and uninteresting country—at least, the writer
is obliged to call it so, in deference to what would be the
general opinion on the subject. As far as his own views
go, he may briefly remark, that though acquainted with
many miles of uninteresting town, he hardly knows of a
hundred yards of country destitute of some quality or other
that can touch or delight a true lover of Nature.
So they travelled on along this straight road, till at last,
as the evening fell, they came in sight of what looked, at a
distance, like a large village, or perhaps a small town.
Our travellers instantly concluded that this place was
Corbeil, their place of destination for the night. The wish
was father to the thought. For the last few miles Blinkers
had given the most unequivocal signs of fatigue. He had
been now a long time without eating, besides having been
probably much under-fed at the manege. He had also worn
himself out with his own bad behaviour in the streets of
Paris ; in short, the little beast hung his head, and seemed
very much done for. It was time they arrived at their
216
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
resting-place. Mazard was also, by this time, thoroughly
worn out, and had for some time ceased to utter any audible
sound. He was, however, not asleep, but was sitting
blinking in a disconsolate manner in his place at the back
of the carriole. As to Mr. Fudge and his companion, to say
that they were fatigued, and to say that they were hungry,
would be to convey but a small idea of the utterly floored
and ravenous condition in which they found themselves.
 What a place ! said Mr. Pinchbold, as they passed a
wretched-looking auberge, with the words  A l'Ecu de
France, just discernible in the twilight on the broken
plaster of its walls.  I am glad we are not going to stop
there. The name of the inn we were to sleep at at Corbeil
is the Grand Cerf.
 Do you know, said Mr. Fudge,  I'm beginning to
fear that this place is not Corbeil; it seems so very small,
and quite a poor village.
 Good heavens ! what are we to do then ? said Mr.
Pinchbold.
 What is the name of this place ? said Mr. Fudge,
addressing a wheelwright who was watching them from his
door.
 It is called Ris, said the man.
"And Corbeil?
 It is eight kilometres, answered the wheelwright.
Mr. Fudge thanked him, and, with some difficulty, per-
suaded Blinkers to more on once more.
 Eight kilometres, muttered Mr. Fudge;  six English
miles.
 What are we to do ? asked Mr. Pinchbold, again..
"We must push for it, said Mr. Fudge; "there is no
other plan. We cannot stop here.
Just outside the little village of Ris, it happened that the
road began to ascend a hill of some considerable extent and
steepness lying beyond. At the foot of this hill Blinkers-
came to a dead stand, and intimated, as plainly as a horse-
could, that he did not mean to go any further.
AN UNEXPECTED STOPPAGE.
217
 We must go back to the Ecu de France, said Mr.
Fudge.
 Then, replied Mr. Pinchbold,  all is over.
 I don't know, continued Mr. Fudge,  that we shall be
under the necessity of passing the night there.
 It Avill be our last if we do, remarked Mr. Pinch-
bold.
 But, resumed Mr. Fudge,  a rest and a feed of
corn are absolutely indispensable for this tired animal.
Whether he will be able to go on or not afterwards remains
to be seen.
It was a curious thing, that quite the worst place, the
lowest in the scale of inns, at which our friends had stopped,
should be at a distance of less than twenty miles from that
centre of civilization, Paris. So it was, however ; when
Blinkers had been put into the stable, and the travellers—
Mr. Pinchbold leading Mazard by a string—entered the
kitchen of the auberge, both gentlemen agreed that the Ecu
de France was not the kind of place to pass a comfortable
night in.
 Dirt, fleas, damp sheets, and nothing to eat, suggested
Mr. Fudge.
 Robbery, murder, concealment of the bodies, defeat of
the ends of justice, replied Mr. Pinchbold, giving his view
of the case, as Mr. Fudge had just enunciated his.
An old woman and a young girl were the only occupants
of the kitchen. Neither of them seemed either glad, or
sorry, or surprised at the arrival of the two Englishmen.
The old woman was despondent on the subject of supper,
and though the young girl seemed to have some vague idea
that it was consistent with the nature of things that an
omelette, some wine, and some bread might be forthcoming
in the course of time, she appeared, it must be owned, rather
uncertain as to how much of the commodity just mentioned
would have to elapse before these luscious viands would be
ready for use.
What a contrast to the first night of their previous journey!
218
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
Their arrival at St. Omer was certainly a more promising
"beginning than this.
What is the reason that one associates the idea of so much
that is evil with the notion of a French anberge ? How is
it that the very name calls up visions of ruffians in blue
blouses, with dangerous knives in their capacious pockets,
sitting plotting together, with a bottle of sour wine before
them ? How is it that one expects to find in the French
cabaret an assembly of personages so different from the
occupants of an English alehouse ? Is there anything
of prejudice in this ? Is there, in truth, no more harm
beneath the blouse than under the smock-frock? Is
the Frenchman's clasp-knife in reality intended, like that
of the British peasant, to do execution only upon a morsel
of cheese-rind or a scrap of bacon ? Perhaps, after all, the
suspicion with which one looks upon the frequenters of
these French taverns is attributable in no small degree to
those numerous stories and dramas so common in France,
in which the scene of every sort of diabolical crime and
•outrage is invariably laid in the roadside auberge. When
the curtain, rising to the strains of an ominous and trembling
symphony, discloses the dimly-lighted interior of a cabaret,
with its bare wooden tables and benches, its trap-door
leading to the cellar beneath, and its Avooden staircase con-
-ducting to the bedchamber above, what kind of action do
we expect in the drama which is in course of presentation ?
■Do we not settle ourselves in our places with a -wriggle of
anticipation ? Do we not look at each other with a ghastly
smile, and mutter,  Now for the murder ? Nor are we
disappointed. The whole audience would take it hard if
they were not treated to a group of conspirators, seated
round that table, right of centre, if the unwary young
■traveller did not enter by door in flat, did not seat himself
at that other table left of centre, if he did not throw aside
his cloak, disclosing a masssive chain attached to a pre-
sumptive watch, if he did not call cheerily for wine, if the
landlord was not called Pierre, was not in league .with
AN AtJBERGE.
ruffians at table, R. c. If he did not drug the wine, doing
so in a conspicuous position, so that the traveller with the
presumptive watch need only turn his head to catch him
in the act. If, we say, these things did not happen, the;
audience would be ill-satisfied, and would conceive that
this auberge was an unworthy and degenerate one, and that the
dramatist who had thus baulked them was unskilful in his craft.
And yet, granting that this impression of the invariable
truculency of the French roadside tavern is derived from
what goes on behind the footlights, or within the covers of
the romance, what comfort can the wanderer in French by-
ways derive from that consideration ? What is the litera-
ture or the drama of a nation but a representation of its
habits and character ? If these cabarets are so universally
selected as the natural sphere of robbery, kidnapping, and
murder, it surely naturally follows that there must be some
foundation in Fact for what is so constantly found in
Fiction. It is preposterous to suppose that there could be
a universal conspiracy to brand these haunts of the French
lower class with an undeserved stigma of disgrace, or to
make, without rhyme or reason, out of a place at worst of
boisterous conviviality, a Pandemonium of conspiracy and
crime.
Mr. Pinchbold was fresh from Paris, where, in the course
of some of the visits which he and his friend had paid to
the theatre, he had seen every sort of horror and villany
perpetrated in inns which, it must be owned, were the
exact image and counterpart of that in which he now found
himself. What wonder if the worthy gentleman was some-
what disturbed?
Behind the kitchen of the Ecu de France there was an
immense cold black-looking apartment, destitute of all
furniture except certain common wooden tables and forms,
and into this exhilarating place, lighted by one small
candle, our travellers were shown to await the appearance
of the meal which they had ordered. Of this meal occa-
sional harbingers were brought in to keep hope alive in
220
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
their breasts—a knife, a fork, a couple of glasses, a frag-
ment of a loaf, which had been cut with a dirty knife (the
same knife probably which had been plunged into the salt,
and left its mark behind it to commemorate the fact), these
were some of the instalments which were given, something
on the same principle which actuates those managers of
small theatres who keep on ringing the prompter's bell at
intervals long before the curtain rises, in order to pacificate
the impatient populace, and persuade them that the fun is
just going to begin.
Simultaneously with the appearance of the omelette
which our friends had ordered, there entered the room in
which they were seated, a couple of men in blue blouses,
who, after staring wildly at the travellers, retired to the
other end of the apartment, and there placing themselves
at a table with a bottle of brandy between them, began to
talk in muttered tones to each other, glancing continually
towards the two Englishmen as they did so.
Now this was not exactly the kind of thing to suit the
peculiar temperament of our friend Mr. Pinchbold. He
could make out just so much oi( what they said as informed
him that they were waiting for some friends to join them;
the rest was lost, as their voices sunk into a whisper.
Whenever, too, Mr. Pinchbold happened to look round, he
invariably found that the two men were staring at his
friend Mr. Fudge and himself, and he observed that when
they stared most, then also they whispered most. Once,
too, when he looked in the direction of the blue-bloused
men, Mr. P. found that the most ill-looking of the two was
playing in an ominous manner with a knife, the edge of
which he was testing with his thumb.
 Members of a gang, evidently, thought Mr. Pinchbold
to himself;  they are waiting here for some addition to
their numbers, ar.d then 
"How should you like to sleep here? inquired Mr.
Fudge at this moment.
L'ECU DE FRANCE.
221
 Sleep here ! echoed his companion ;  what a horrible
idea !
 I don't know whether it will be necessary, resumed
Mr. Fudge,  but I think we might do worse.
With these words, Mr. Fudge rose from the table and
made his way out into the yard to look after Blinkers.
Mr. Pinchbold, now left alone, began to occupy himself in
feeding Mazard with some remnants of certain cutlets
which neither he nor his friend had been able to masticate.
The dog, however, seemed to have no appetite, and a few
morsels were all that Mr. Pinchbold could persuade him to
swallow.
 If Mazard goes on fretting like this, thought Mr. P.,
 we shall have to send him back to Paris ; it was an in-
human act to take him away.
 I am afraid, said Mr. Fudge, entering at this moment,
 that it will be very imprudent to attempt going on
to-night.
 Just Heaven ! ejaculated Mr. Pinchbold.
 Blinkers is a good deal tired, and to put it on no more
humane ground, I think there is no worse policy than
knocking a horse up at first starting. I find that Corbeil
lies out of the main road, and that it is not necessary that
we should pass through it at all. By remaining here to-
night, we might still get to Fontainebleau to-morrow.
The little horse looks so comfortable in his stable, that I
really think it would be cruel to take him further.
 Let us have no more cruelty, said Mr. Pinchbold,
 whatever we do. We have enough of that upon our con-
sciences in connexion with this wretched dog; I cannot
make him out.
 I am not surprised at that, said Mr. Fudge,  and,
indeed, I should have thought it a bad trait in him if he
had manifested more indifference in parting with his former
owner. He will get all right in time, and the life of change
and movement we are leading is very favourable for him.
A. CBUTSE UPON WHEELS.
It was at a time like this that Mr. Fudge and his friend
felt what a disadvantage they were at in travelling so late
in the season. It was now the second of October, exactly
one month and a day since they had first started from
Malaise. It was very cold in the evenings now, and it was
very difficult to know how to occupy that portion of the
day. By the time that they had paid a visit to the stable,
where Blinkers, having finished his oats, was now made
snug for the night with a good provision of hay and a
famous straw bed—by the time that, with the aid of a
lantern, they had unpacked what they required from the
carriole, there really seemed nothing to be done but to go-
to bed. There was a smouldering fire in the kitchen, by
which they sat for a time, while Mr. Fudge smoked his
pipe, and Mr. Pinchbold, with an ink-bottle tied to his
button-hole like a tax-gatherer, made some entries in his
journal. They were evidently, however, in the way here,
and accordingly it was not long before they came to the
conclusion that, as they had to start early the next morning,
they had better retire for the night at once. So Mr. Fudge
rapped out the contents of his pipe upon the hearth, and
Mr. Pinchbold concluded his day's entry as follows
 We are now going to bed. We are about to ascend a
dark and secret staircase, which leads to the upper story of
this terrible abode. Who knows if we shall descend it
again alive ? The ruffians who were present at our even-
ing meal have been in and out of the kitchen where
we have been sitting all the evening, evidently on the
look-out to ascertain our movements. Other ruffians have
been also backwards and forwards about the premises con-
tinually. The people of the inn say that they are carriers
who have put up here for the night. Of this, however, I
do not believe one word. I feel singularly calm and tran-
quil, considering the horrors of our position."'
There was but one bedroom available for the use of our
two travellers. It was, however, a very large one, with
three great, gaunt wooden bedsteads in it. Two of these
L'ECU BE FRANCE.
bad been made, for the use of Mr. Fudge and his friend;
the third was left disclosing that spectral appearance of
woodwork and sacking which should always be kept con-
cealed from the human eye.
 Be very careful, said Mr. Pinchbold, as he entered,
carrying his carpet-bag in his arms, and with Mazard tied
to him by his string ;  be very careful in locking the doorr
and I will attend to the barricade afterwards.
 I don't know, answered Mr. Fudge,  how the barri-
cade may answer, but I am not, I confess, sanguine about
the fulfilment of your first suggestion, for the simple reason
that there is no lock in the door.
 Then, said Mr. Pinchbold,  I sit up all night.
 What is the use of that ? said Mr. Fudge.
"The use of it is, answered his companion, "that !
prefer meeting my fate in a conscious rather than an un-
conscious state.
 I am of a different opinion, remarked Mr. Fudge, as
he began undressing.  These sheets, he continued,  are,
as I predicted, saturated with water.
 May they never be saturated with gore! remarked
Mr. Pinchbold, in a hollow tone.
"They are that also, remarked his friend, "for I
have just succeeded in spilling that of a flea which
for corpulence and length of stride I have never seen
equalled.
 This is a nice prospect, said Mr. Pinchbold, who was-
sitting on the side of the unmade bed.  A strange auberge
on a lonely road, filled with a horde of ruffians, a candle
about an inch long, a door that wont lock 
 Damp sheets and fleas of unprecedented magnitude,
interrupted Mr. Fudge, who now proceeded, in deference
to his companion's wishes, to fortify the door by the simple
process of sticking a corkscrew into it just above the
latch. This done, Mr. Pinchbold in turn set himself to
work in earnest at the barricade. He was some time
achieving it to his satisfaction, Mazard watching him in-
224
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
tently throughout the whole process, and till the final
washing-basin was balanced in its usual position. At this
point he uttered one long dismal yell, and the candle, which
had been for some time spluttering and fizzing in the socket,
finally expired.
 What a fearful state of things ! said Mr. Pinchbold,
as he struck a light, and began wandering about the room,
holding the match in his hand. "Where is the lantern ?
he inquired of Mr. Fudge, who was by this time in bed,
and provokingly sleepy.
 Burnt out, too, muttered Mr. Fudge, only half intel-
ligibly.
It was too true. Misfortunes never come alone—the
lantern had burnt out, and, in the hurry of leaving Paris,
the providing a reserve of candles had not been thought of.
Mr. Pinchbold seated himself once more upon the barren
bedstead, with the box of allumettes in one hand and the
lighted match in the other, and continued for a while to
keep hope alive with this ghastly counterfeit of an illumi-
nation, kindling one match at the ashes of its predecessor
till some dozen or so had been consumed. At this point it
occurred to him that if he went on thus they would soon
be left without the means of striking a light at all, so the
match was allowed to expire, and the room was left in
utter darkness.
It was at this moment that a door at the foot of the
stairs was heard to open softly, and a prolonged whispering
and muttering of voices became audible. During the whole
time that Mr. Pinchbold and his friend had occupied the
room which was assigned to them as a sleeping apartment,
they had heard that low rumbling and growling of voices
underneath them, which always has more or less of a dis-
agreeable sound. The whispering which Mr. Pinchbold
heard was now substituted for this hollow murmuring to
which they had previously listened. The whispering at
length ceased, and then succeeded the sound of footsteps
cautiously ascending the creaking staircase. Mazard uttered
COVERT WHISPERINGS.
223
a low growl, and Mr. Pinchbold struck another lucifer--
match. The two sounds together awakened Mr. Fudge,
who was just beginning to doze, and, turning round, he
saw Mazard watching at the door with his head very much
on one side, and Mr. Pinchbold still sitting on the dis-
mantled bed with an ashy countenance.
 Est-ce ici ? said a voice in a whisper outside the
door.
At this Mazard began barking violently, a sound like?'
smothered laughter was heard without, and the footsteps
receded once more, moving, however, apparently, along the
passage, and not descending the staircase again to the room
below.
 Did you hear that ? asked Mr. Pinchbold, lighting'
another match, regardless of consequences.
 Yes, answered Mr. Fudge :  I heard some one sayy
'Is it here?' 
 How horrible ! gasped Mr. Pinchbold;  and we have'
only six matches left. What are we to do ?
 Well, replied Mr. Fudge, reflectively,  I think we'd
better go to sleep.
 What, after distinctly hearing one of those malignant'
ruffians from below ipquire if it is here that we sleep,
evidently with the intention of returning by and by to put
an end to us?
 Yes; but that is not exactly the interpretation I had
put upon it, replied Mr. Fudge. "It seemed to me that
some one who was to sleep in the house was simply inquir-
ing if this was his room; or possibly that, the two English-
men having been the subject of much discussion downstairs,
some member of the company was interested in knowing in
what apartment these two distinguished individuals were to-
pass the night.
With these words Mr. Fudge addressed himself once
more to sleep, and Mr. Pinchbold to that chill and rarely
achieved proceeding, called,  sitting up all night.
It would have been a curious study, if there had been
Q
226
A CETJISE UPON WHEELS.
anybody there to witness it, to observe the manner in
which Mr. P. carried out his intention. The posture
assumed by this gentleman at the commencement of his un-
dertaking was one characterized by the most rigid and
uncompromising wakefulness which it is possible to imagine.
In a word, he sat bolt upright, with his arms folded, and
with his eyes staring intensely into vacancy. It was not
long before Mr. Pinchbold began to feel somewhat chilly,
so he reached himself a railway rug, and, with the shudder
peculiar to those who are sitting up at night, enveloped
himself in its folds. The railway rug, by imparting a
slight warmth to our good gentleman's frame, seemed to
induce the faintest possible approach to a condition of
drowsiness. The general rigidity of Mr. Pinchbold's
bearing relaxed slightly, and his eyes were perhaps a
thought less widely opened than at first. Presently, the
slight relaxation previously adverted to in Mr. P.'s bearing
degenerated into an absolute stoop, and his chin would at
times obtain a singular proximity with his knees; then
would Mr. Pinchbold start suddenly up more violently
rigid than ever, and cough loudly to intimate to society
generally that an Englishman—and one, to judge by his
cough, of a powerful and burly presence—was awake and
ready for action. That done, Mr. Pinchbold would again
collapse with a strange sinking in the abdominal regions;
and, having remained some time a practical monument of
the extreme amount of curvature of which the human
spine is capable, would again start up, and again startle the
echoes with the cough of a Yorkshire farmer weighing
fifteen stone without his dinner. Gradually Mr. Pinch-
hold's cough became less frequent; and at the same time
it might have been observed—if, as we have said, there had
been anybody to observe it—that our worthy friend was
occupied from time to time in slow and complicated efforts
to unlace his boots, it being a remarkable circumstance
that all persons who are going to sit up all night become,
at the expiration of the first half hour devoted to that
SITTING UP ALL NIGHT.
227
'exhilarating pastime, intolerant of every description of
clothing, but more especially of those portions of wearing
apparel in which their feet are enclosed. After about
three quarters of an hour spent in disentangling laces,
Mr. Pinchbold succeeded in freeing himself from his boots;
after which he might be heard to mutter, that he felt lighter
and more wakeful now. It is possible that this was the
reason why Mr. Pinchbold edged himself at this point a
little farther on to his bed, and it is not improbable that it
was with a view of inducing a still greater amount of
sprightliness that he next proceeded slowly and gradually
to extricate one arm from the restraints of the coat-sleeve
which ordinarily covered it. Mr. Pinchbold felt so wakeful
after this exploit that he was unable to remain still in a
sitting position, and would roll from side to side whenever
he attempted to do so, occasionally at such times hitting
himself a good smart blow on the shoulder through bring-
ing that part of his frame into sharp contact with the
woodwork of his bed. He also curiously enough would
appear to be engaged in acknowledging the presence of
numerous phantom acquaintances, nodding and doing
obeisance to them in the strangest manner possible. A
gentleman so successful in keeping awake as this could
surely afford to coil his legs up upon his bed and draw the
railway rug over him, after the fashion of a quilt or coun-
terpane. At all events, Mr. Pinchbold did so; and it is
only reasonable to suppose that as the night, or rather the
morning, advanced farther, still greater developments of
wakefulness must have taken place in Mr. Pinchbold's con-
dition, for when Mr. Fudge awoke the next morning he
found his friend and companion comfortably ensconced
between the sheets, with Mazard curled up upon his feet.
And this is how Mr. Pinchbold achieved his fell deter-
mination of  sitting up all night.
Q 2
228
CHAPTER XIII.
the journey continued; the forest; some notice of the
beauties of fontainebleau; a refreshing incident leading
to a surprise.
What a delightful thing it would be if life could be all
morning. How full of animation and hope we feel at that
time. How different is the aspect worn by everything
about us to that which the same things present with the
dark shade of evening thrown over them. Mr. Fudge had
demolished his friend's barricade, and was out in the stable-
yard before seven o'clock on the morning of their second
day from Paris. Blinkers, to whom he paid a visit at
once, was as fresh as a lark; and Mr. Fudge had the satis-
faction of seeing him deeply engaged with a double feed of
oats before he had been in the stable many minutes. They
were to make an early start of it, intending to take a long
rest in the middle of the day, and get on to Fontainebleau
in the afternoon. Certainly, Mr. Fudge was in his element
at a time like this. Busy with preparation, arranging and
re-arranging perpetually the contents of the carriole, draw-
ing out the ostler on the subject of horses, and questioning
him as to the nature of the road which he and his friend
were about to travel; how long it would take them to
reach such and such a place; where they ought to stop in
the middle of the day, and so on.
It was not long before Mr. Pinchbold made his appear-
ance in the stable-yard, with Mazard at his heels. The
poor dog seemed somewhat in a more hopeful condition
the road.
229
than on the previous day ; but his tail was still not curled
so triumphantly as of yore; his walk had less vivacity and
animation about it than was right; and he failed to take that
intense interest in all the nooks and corners about the place,
which characterizes every member of the dog tribe when
in a natural and wholesome condition. A slight improve-
ment, however, was all that could be expected; and the
old ostler, who professed to have a knowledge of dogs of an
unlimited nature, prophesied, on hearing something of
Hazard's history, that it would be a good week before he
was quite himself again.
There was not much to be done in the way of breakfast
at Ris ; our travellers waited only for what could be pre-
pared with little delay; and it was not much after half-
past seven a.m. when they found themselves once more on
the road.
It was quite astonishing what a different view Mr. Pinch-
bold took of affairs in the morning to that with which he
regarded them at night. He was now disposed, in quitting
their resting-place, to speak of it in the tone of one who
had always regarded it in an amiable and affectionate light.
He said it was a rough place, certainly; the people not
very civilized, but evidently good people at bottom, and
honest as the day. It was quite an interesting experience
to have passed a night at a place of the kind; and Mr. P.
was quite glad they had stopped there.
It is a great surprise, and not a pleasant one, to the
traveller, to find how universally the roads in this part of
Prance are paved. The shaking and jumbling occasioned
by this are fearful. It also strikes one as such a wonder-
fill thing that so vast an undertaking as the paving of all
these long roadways could ever, by any human agency,
have been accomplished. It takes a long time to pave a
street; to pave all these roads about France would, one would
have thought, have required more time than has elapsed
since the Deluge.
The country improves in point of beauty as Paris gets
230
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
more distant. A fine view of a bend in the Seine occurs'
not far from Penthievre. Tliis Penthievre is a large place,
and our travellers would have done wisely to stop there for
their midday rest; but Mr. Fudge thought they should
have accomplished more of their journey before taking any
repose. They went on, then, to Caillot, a wretched,
deserted-looking village; where, seeing a man, the only
inhabitant, apparently, at work in the capacity of wheel-
wright, they inquired of him where they could best put up
their horse, and get something to eat themselves.
 Here, said the man. And with that he began open-
ing the shutters of a closed-up house, next to the wheel-
wright's shop; then he went round to the back, and
unbarred the doors of this same shut-up house, which it
seemed was an inn—the man being a pluralist, and com-
bining the functions of wheelwright and innkeeper.
An unpromising place; the man seemed 'to know
nothing about feeding the horse, or anything else. His
wife had to be sent for before the travellers could have any-
thing to eat; so as the prospect of a meal seemed a remote
one, they determined to beguile the time with a stroll
about the village.
In an old forsaken churchyard, with unburied bones
lying about it, routing about among the graves, and enjoy-
ing himself prodigiously, there appeared the second inha-
bitant of the village—an old and very mischievous-looking
idiot. An uncouth beggar this, who clamoured greedily
for alms, and who, having got a two-sous piece from Mr.
Pinchbold, retired with it, grinning and mouthing, to the
church-porch, where he seemed to be engaged in hiding it,
evidently pretending to himself, to increase his gratification,
that he had stolen the money. The third inhabitant of
this joyous hamlet whom our friends encountered was
another idiot—a young girf this time, who, running swiftly
all around and about the place, lifted up her voice in wailings
and cries as dreary and terrible to hear, as her wan face
and disjointed figure were distressing to look upon. A sane
CAILLOT.
231
old woman, looking out of window, and addressing a word
of comfort to this wretched creature, made up, apparently,,
with one hen and a very little cur, the population of the
place.
Mr. Fudge and his companion went a little way out of
the village, and ascending a slight eminence, cast a glance
forward towards the direction in which their road lay. A
new feature was discernible in the prospect, and one of no
small mark and interest. But a few miles on from where
they stood, with the last grey hovels of the village close
behind them, the ploughed lands, and the pastures, dotted
as they were, and thickly sometimes, with groups of trees
—the open country, we say, stopped altogether, and a great,
dark, ominous stain, that lay upon the earth like a shadow,
stretched to right and left, and on ahead as far as the eye
could see.
 It must be the forest, said Mr. Pinchbold, softly.
He was right; the forest of Fontainebleau lay before
them. To come upon it so quietly and unexpectedly; to
be alone; to have no guides ; to be free from the bewilder-
ment of a large party; to have even no noisy explaining
friend raving about the scene; to be under a soft grey sky,,
with the sun veiled for the day in heavy clouds; to look
over from that sad village to where the earth was darkened
by that great forest, was to come in view of so remarkable
a prospect under circumstances peculiarly and rarely
favourable. There is something wonderfully and myste-
riously attractive even about a wood covering only a few
acres of ground; while a forest, be it where it may, or what
it may, must always fill us with something of awe as well
as of admiration; but when that forest is the forest of
Fontainebleau, it is surely impossible for any man but a
dunce or a woodcutter to look upon it with anything of
indifference in his regard.
Our two Englishmen were both well-read in the history
of the country through which they were passing; and as
they silently observed the scene before them, each was
232
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
busy in bis own mind with the memory of all that wealth
of interest with which the name of Fontainebleau is asso-
,ciated. Every inch of ground seemed full of historical
interest; and those ancient memories that seemed to hang
yonder over the forest, would creep even over the interven-
ing space between it and the place where they stood, and
make the very road whose stones sustained their weight—
the road that connected the old town of Paris with the old
hunting-seat of Fontainebleau—the road along which the
kings of France, Avith all their train of courtiers and
attendants, must have passed—the road by which messen-
gers must have hurried so often ivith the slow haste of
those days—the road by which the lover must have sped to
steal an intervieAv with some maid-of-honour at the Court,
fretting in her gilded prison—this road itself became in
turn, to both our travellers, a viaduct of the fancy, bridging
over the space betAveen the Present and the Past.
It was well that Mr. Fudge and his friend had something
whereon at least to feed their minds, for it must be
acknoAvledged that the sustenance provided by the wheel-
wright's Avife, for their bodily support, was but of a low
order of merit. A musty beef-steak, musty cutlets, and
musty Avine, were no great temptations to excess, and a
giant caulifloAver, on which the travellers were disposed to
fall back, was speedily abandoned when Mr. Pinchbold dis-
•covered that it had been sent to table without the previous
formality of ejecting the slugs from their favourite quarters
in the recesses of the stalk. Altogether, then, it Avas a
.sorry meal, and what added to its unsatisfactoriness, aVus
the fact that Mazard had not sufficiently recovered his
•appetite to eat up Avhat Mr. Fudge and his friend could not
swallow. The dog was still moping sadly. In deference
to Mr. Pinchbold's Avishes, he would certainly make an
attempt to eat, an attempt, howeArer, which became abortive,
after the first feAV mouthfuls had, Avith obvious reluctance,
been got down. It was very sad to see him, and Mr,
Pinchbold repented more than once, that in his selfish
THE FOREST.
233
desire to possess him, he had taken the dog away from his
own natural sphere where he was enjoying himself after his
own manner.
 I wonder, said Mr. Pinchbold,  if he Avould eat some
of his favourite sponge cakes, and it was agreed that the
next time they met with any, the experiment should be
tried. Meanwhile Mr. Fudge still stuck to his opinion, that
time would bring him round.
It was exactly at four o'clock in the afternoon, that the
•carriole passed by the first tree that marked the commence-
ment of the forest of Fontainebleau. It is not often that
an event such as this can be noted with such precision. It
commonly happens that the approaches to those places
which we have heard and thought much about are very
gradual, and their outworks so scattered and far extended,
that we can hardly define the actual moment of our obtain-
ing admission within the long anticipated precincts. It is
not so with the forest of Fontainebleau, the limits of whose
enclosure are at this point as clearly defined as those of an
English gentleman's park. As you advance farther into the
interior of the forest, and lose sight of the gleam of open
eountry outside, a curious sense of confinement and restraint
comes over you, and beautiful as all around you unques-
tionably is, you feel, in some sort, that those tall trees fence
you about and hem you in, and that you breathe less freely
than you did outside. And yet the place is beautiful. The
little cleared spaces that you come to now and then, where
vast fragments of rock appear so suddenly, and in spots
where their presence could be so little anticipated, that
they seem rather as if they had been placed in those
positions than as if they grew there and were part of the
soil; the little glades which surprise you from time to time,
where the ground dips into a valley ; the by-paths which,
diverging from the main road, sometimes with a notice at
the corner recording where they lead to, sometimes with no
such guiding indication, invite you to follow their green
windings, and losing yourself quickly in the heart of the
234
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
forest, abandon all hope of a return to civilization; the
great stone cross raised at a place where four roads meet,
and looking in its colossal size so dim and spectral as you
approach it from a distance—all these things are beautiful'
indeed, but beautiful in that sad and melancholy way which
is perhaps the best of all. It was in such a scene that the
companion of the banished Duke found food for his un-
changing melancholy, and our two friends, as they drove
along, took note of this, and asked each other how much of
that rough courtier's sadness was attributable to the trees of
Ardennes.
The progress of our travellers through the great forest
was to both of them full of interest and delight. It was
mainly achieved on foot, and it took so long to pause before
the points of special interest; so long to peer into this little
mysterious glade, where assuredly the fairies come from
their hiding-places when the night falls to dance ; so long
to gaze down that dark vista whose turf the feet of gnomes
and wood-sprites press in their midnight gambols ; so long
for Mr. Fudge to stand at the horse's head, while Mr.
Pinchbold climbed up a rock to get a glimpse of some special
prospect, and coming back in raptures, insisted on his friend
doing the same, while he took charge of Blinkers—a pro-
ceeding which he accomplished by standing directly in front
of the animal, and holding a rein tightly in each hand—all
these things took so long, that the dusk of the evening was
beginning to fall when the two Englishmen found them-
selves quite suddenly at the entrance to the town of Fon-
tainebleau.
The limits of this town are as definitely marked as those
of the forest itself, by which it is girt about. It is curiously
situated, not in the neighbourhood of the forest, not on the
edge of the forest, or even just within it. It seems to be
in the very centre of this vast wood, and there is a sense of
confinement, and of imprisonment even, that comes over
you as you realize this fully, which would make Fontaine-
bleau (charming and delightful as it is) an impossible place
THE HOTEL.
235
as a residence. Charming and delightful, and almost in-
conceivably romantic it is, unquestionably, for a time, and
till that longing for a horizon comes upon you, a more
beautiful residing place could hardly be found. But that
longing is sure to come. You want to soar above the trees,
and see the world beyond, and you strain your eyes along
the endless vistas which intersect the forest, in hopes of
getting a glimpse of distant hill or plain, with the edge of
the round world against the sky.
The Hotel de Paris, where our travellers put up, was a
great contrast to the auberge of the previous night. Mr.
Pinchbold, who, in addition to his usual descriptive notices
of his bedrooms, has generally something to say of the
hotel or innkeeper, and the staff of persons in office under
him, makes at Fontainebleau an entry to the following
purpose :—
 Patron, another name for landlord, and that generally
in use among the servants,—Patron, a youngish man, who*
lounged about like a guest, and did not seem to take much
interest in business ; wife, fussy and disagreeable ; satirical
myrmidons in the hall of the hotel, who presume to smile
as my friend and I pass in and out. One agreeable waiter,
who, though able to speak English, abstained from cram-
ming that accomplishment down one's throat;—no waiter
should answer you in English when you address him in
French. The power of speaking English should always be
reserved till it is asked for, and it should be a universally
respected canon, that the language in which you address
any person, should be the language in which that person
responds to you. The ostler at this hotel never to be
found, but when at length caught, loquacious on the
subject of his experiences as coachman to some mythical
French count, also prone to relate wonderful things about
the horses in the stable, and the fabulous prices which they
had cost.
 Bedroom, cheerful and well-lighted, Mr. Pinchbold
continues;  two sides exposed to the outer air, and three
236
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
Avindows prettily curtained. Bed against wall, with cur-
tains passed through a mahogany ring which hangs from
ceiling. Gilt clock, represented as growing in a bronze
rock ; a youth in the costume of a theatrical page has sue-
ceeded in propping himself up with one elbow on the rock
and one foot on the ground; he holds a bluntly-pointed
instrument in one hand, and has an open volume before
him slipping off the rock, and as he is kicking frantically
with one leg, and is grasping idiotically at his chin Avith
the unemployed hand, may be supposed to be composing
a sonnet to his mistress's eyebroAv. The clock of course
does not go. A print called TAmour Maternelle,' so
entitled Avith justice, since nothing but a maternal love
verging on the morbid could have induced any Avoman to
have taken upon her knee a child so odious as that repre-
sented by the painter of this picture.
It Avas a pleasant thing, after the privations of Ris, to sit
down to a comfortable dinner in a well-lighted and prettily
decorated salle-a-manger. A visit to Blinkers, and a Avalk
about the toAvn, Avhere Mr. Fudge and his friend had some
.purchases to make, filled up the evening. Among these
purchases Avere some of those sponge cakes of Avhich Mazard
had formerly been so fond. The dog, however, Avould not
touch one of them, but walked away after faintly smelling
at the proffered cake, more disconsolately, and with his tail
more out of curl than ever.
 I don't know what we shall do Avith him, said Mr.
Pinchbold, despairingly, just after this neAV instance of
Mazard's unhappiness.  He seems to me to be pining;
in spite of his thick fur I can see that he is much
thinner than he was, and his skin hangs about him quite
loosely.
Mr. Fudge looked at the dog carefully under a lamp, for
they were standing in the street, and just outside the shop
where the sponge cakes had been bought.
 Try him with a sou, suggested Mr. Fudge.
Mr. Pinchbold took one of these coins out of his pocket
TOO ABSURD TO MENTION.
237
and held it out towards the dog. Hazard declined it, just
as he had declined the cake; after that, Mr. Fudge made
an attempt in his turn—it was equally unsuccessful. The
dog steadily declined to go through his old performance
under the new circumstances. Mr. Pinchbold did all in
his power, and so did his companion. They showed him
the cake, they showed him the shop, they showed him the
sou, but beyond looking at them wistfully and with a chop-
fallen .countenance, and faintly wagging his tail, the unfor-
tunate Mazard made no response to their appeal. Nay,
when they came back to the place after walking for a time
about the toAvn, and tried the dog once more, it was still
useless, and Mr. Pinchbold was half inclined at one
moment to believe that the dog had been changed, so-
completely ignorant did he seem to be of his former accom-
plishment, and everything connected Avith it.
Mr. Pinchbold looked dejectedly at his friend.
 I have an idea, said Mr. Fudge, suddenly;  it is a
very fanciful one, too absurd to mention.
 Then, for heaven's sake, mention it! cried Mr. Pinch-
bold.
 I was thinking, then, Mr. Fudge ansAvered,  that if
you could convey to the dog's understanding an impression
that you Avere in some way connected with the old patissier's
shop Avhere he used to live, and that it Avould even be
profitable to you if he was to deal Avith you for cakes—but
it's too ridiculous, said Mr. Fudge, interrupting himself.
 Not a bit of it, said Mr. Pinchbold ;  I believe this
dog to be capable of anything, and I am determined to try
him.
It being still tolerably early in the evening, there Avas
yet time for Mr. Pinchbold and his friend to begin hunting
about the toAvn for the paraphernalia which Avas necessary
for the carrying out of their experiment. After hunting
about for some time, our friends found themselves in front
of a small shop, which appeared to be a compound of a
broker's, a cabinet-maker's, and a carpenter's.
238
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
 There is the very thing, said Mr. Pinchbold.
Mr. Fudge looked in the direction indicated by his
friend, and saw in an obscure corner of the shop a little
upright wooden cabinet of the roughest kind, and some-
thing under a couple of feet in height. It was a common-
looking thing, with three or four little panes of glass let
into the folding-doors, and Mr. Fudge took it into his head
that because these little windows were shaped like Gothic
arches, that therefore this little shabby cabinet had been
some poor nun's bookcase in which she kept her library of
devotion. On going into the shop to make inquiry about
the cabinet, it proved that Mr. Fudge's hypothesis was
likely enough to be a true one, for the old man who
owned it said that it had come to him with some other odds
. and ends of religious furniture, and he believed it had once
been in a convent. On opening the little bookcase, it was
found to have just one shelf across the middle of it, and
was pronounced by Mr. Pinchbold to be just the thing for
their purpose.
"And if, he said, coming out of the shop with^the
bookcase wrapt up in an odd number of the Independance
Beige,  if the poor nun had known the use to which her
little bookcase was to be put, I think she would have owned
it, at any rate, to be a harmless one, and would have wished
us luck in our enterprise.
Mr. Pinchbold and his friend now returned to the
pastrycook's shop where they had bought the cakes, and
having purchased a good supply of them, proceeded next—
in pursuance of his idea of converting the little cabinet into
a pastrycook's shop—to secure certain articles which might
be considered emblematical of confectionery. There was,
and had been in the window of that shop for many a year,
a certain fictitious mould of calfs-foot jelly, which on that
principle of exaggeration which characterizes all imitations,
presented an aspect of brilliancy and transparency so out-
rageous that no one could possibly have been taken in by it.
Having made, to the intense astonishment of the people of
TOO ABSURD TO MENTION.
239
the shop, a remunerative offer for this delusive article, and
having at once secured it for his own, Mr. Pinchbold next
proceeded to treat for a couple of impossible-looking phials
of syrup, and a glass of currant-jelly. These things having
now become his lawful possessions, Mr. P. released the
nun's bookcase from the shelter of the Independance Beige,
and clapped the whole of his newly acquired property into
the interior of the cabinet. Mr. Pinchbold had no one to
divide with him the intense astonishment of the pastrycook
and his family at his proceedings, for his friend Mr. Fudge
was waiting outside the door with Mazard in his charge,
it not being considered desirable to admit the dog at this
stage behind the scenes. There remained but one more
purchase to be made, in the shape of a white apron, and
this having been got at the principal haberdasher's shop,
Mr. Pinchbold pronounced that his preparations were
complete, and marched off with some importance in his step
to the stables, to deposit his stock-in-trade in the carriole.
The next morning was one of those which are not tin-
common in the month of October, when the air, which
would be chilly enough without the sun, retains, in spite
of that luminary, a certain sharpness which is like the
sparkle of champagne. What a morning for Fontainebleau!
What a morning to tip with tender sunlight and veil with
luminous shadow the little quaint courtyards of the Palace,
raid to reveal as you stood upon the terrace every nook and
corner of its lovely garden !
For Fontainebleau is surely of all the show places in the
world the most completely and almost incredibly lovely.
Not Windsor, in all the stateliness of its proud power ; not
Versailles, imposing, ostentatious, magnificent; not Hamp-
ton Court, pregnant with associations, prim and soigne in
its old-fashioned garb ; not any of these can be mentioned
even ivith the praise they merit, till he who has stood upon
the terrace of Fontainebleau, who has wandered among its
ancient courts, and paced alone or with one cherished
friend the paths and alleys of its vast garden, has forgotten
240
A CRUISE UPON "WHEELS.
his first overwhelming impression and left it in the fa
distance!
There are few things so delightful as an old garden
Advance as we may in other matters, we shall never hi
upon any scheme for laying out a garden so perfect as tha
which has been established once for all by those cunnim
workmen who laid out such pleasure-groimds as those o
Versailles and Fontainebleau. The terrace! what ai
invention alone is the terrace-walk ! Whether standing or
it and glancing over on the scene below, or walking in th<
garden and looking up at its stone balustrades, there i:
something besides splendour, and better than it, conveyec
by the notion of a terrace. Its smooth and even grave
seems to perpetuate the sunlight, even though the sun itsel
may be hidden by the clouds. There are other parts o
your pleasure-grounds, such as the walk beside the oblong
fish-pond, that are suggestive, though not unpleasantly so.
of something pensive and melancholy; but the terrace with
its sunshine, the terrace on which the holiday figures, who
have passed through the long windows to reach it, are
lounging as they watch the sunset, and trifle away the last
hour of daylight; the terrace with its grey sundial; tl a;
terrace with its flight of steps, on which the peacock suns
its foolish beauty ; the terrace is all for happiness, for
pleasure, for gaiety. One would almost say that no one
could pass an unhappy hour upon a terrace-walk, that no
one could tell bad news upon a terrace, or speak in bitter-
ness or wrath. Nor is that garden which you overlook
from the terrace heights, and which lies so low and snug
under their shelter, to be surpassed in the sense of luxury
and comfort which it so strongly suggests. How prosperous
and cared for it looks, tended like the children of the rich,
groomed like the winner of a Derby. The differences of
station are not developed between man and man alone, we
see them unmistakeably enough among the brute creation,
and surely there is a high-bred look about those flower-
beds in the Palace-garden which indicates a different rank
FONTAINEBLEAU.
241
that held by the little tangled plots of mari-
ysanthemum behind the auberge at Ris.
3 and his companion spent a long morning at
u, and as they passed out of the precincts of
nd noted the fierce tourists assailing the place,
le charge by a valet de place, whose presence
even the beauty of Fontainebleau itself, they
with a mixed feeling, of surprise that people
to that wondrous place and want to know
ut it but what its fair outside revealed, and of
f-gratulation at their own good fortune in
I to explore, unguided and alone, the beauties of
ieat.
| it. To the many to whom Fontainebleau is
•tlier description would be useless, while with
se who know it not, if what has been said has
3 notion of an old grey building with cool
leading one out of another, with pointed turrets
ire, round which the pigeons wheel and poise ;
eyed the notion of a garden of vast size, sunk
apart of terraces for shelter, with numberless
with prim gravel walks, with fountains and
ir water, where the triton, the river-horse, and
ire not unknown ; a garden that seems to have
inshine, and to hold it there for ever; if it has
park domain beyond, with a chain of oblong
r leading out to the forest ground which hems
: about—if this much has been done, and if,
lias made the reader long to see the place for
enough.
tage Avas before our travellers to-day. They
■ at Montereau, the scene of one of Napoleon's
Avhicli, hmvever, the reader shall not be bored,
uirse of the day before, about six-and-thirty
i short one—and Montereau lay at a distance
,les only—very desirable. It Avas about one
3 afternoon Avlien the travellers took their last
R
242
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS,
look at the palace, and passed out once
forest. T ^
There never Avas a horse so soon elated a^d se« SOQH
depressed as Blinkers. The morning of thd*<«taj!fc**ffc©ttM
3?ontaineblean was one of his gloomy periods, and he trotted
along with his head down, and every sympton* jd¥ despais
developed in his Avhole hearing. The fact is that the forest
weighed "upon, him, and kept down his spirits. There
could he no doubt ahout this. Later in the day, and when
our travellers had at length got clear of the last trees of
that great wood, the little horse plucked suddenly up, and
became almost too frisky to be borne.
Before, however, they were out of the forest there was a
solemn ordeal to be gone through, and a great performance
was to take place, in which Mazard was to take a prominent
part.
It had been arranged between Mr. Fudge and his com-
panion that the great experiment of the pastry-cook's shop,
the experiment which had induced Mr. Pinchbold to be-
come the possessor of the nun's bookcase, and had caused
him to invest his capital in a mould of artificial jelly, and
other matters mentioned above—it had been agreed, I say,
that this experiment must be made in private, and in some
spot as far removed from human ken as possible.
 Now for it, said Mr. Fudge, pulling up at the side of
the road, and preparing to descend.
The place was Avell chosen. The road was long and
straight, so that any one within a mile or so must neces-
sarily have been in sight; a surprise, therefore, was impos-
sible.
Mr. Pinchbold and his friend had determined that in
carrying out the commercial transaction in which they
were about to engage, they would take no notice at all ot
Mazard, not calling his attention to what they did, or
appearing to have any view of teaching him .anything by
their performance.
The carriole having been drawn up, then, in a quiet
AN OUTRAGEOUS PltOCEEDTNG. 248-
place, and the depression of the little horse's spirits appear-
ing to be highly favourable to the chances of his standing
still, our two travellers descended from their seats without
further delay, and proceeded at once to business.
First of all, Mr. Pinchbold, with great care and elabora-
tion, lifted the nun's bookcase out of the interior of the
carriole, and placed it in a convenient and telling posi-
tion, with its weight mainly supported on one of the
wheels of the vehicle. Then he took from a place of
concealment the white apron purchased on the preceding
evening, and fastened it round his body, and it must be
owned that, this being accomplished, the worthy gentleman
would have looked singularly like a pastrycook if he had:
not, for some reason or other, borne a still stronger resem-
blance to a butterman. The apron having been now
thoroughly adjusted, it became Mr. Pinchbold's next duty
to open the shop, or, in other words, to unlock the book-
case. The shop was rather in dishabille, Mr. Pinchbold
having, for safety's sake* enveloped the more fragile of its
contents in numerous papers to prevent them from rattling
about; but when these were once removed, and the jelly-
mould, the syrup bottles, and the cakes were revealed in
all their majesty, the effect was very splendid indeed, and
calculated to impress any right-minded dog with the con-
viction that the object before him was a  Branch Confec-
tionery Establishment or nothing. Also, had all these
proceedings of Mr. Pinchbold been watched by Mazard
with a degree of eagerness and excitement which he had
not manifested on any previous occasion throughout the
journey.
The  shop being now fairly open and everything in
readiness, Mr. Fudge, who had been walking about at a
little distance watching his opportunity, came up to where
his friend was standing, looking like a lunatic butterman,
and commenced proceedings without further delay. It
must be acknowledged that there was something theatrical,
almost pantomimic, in Mr. Fudge's way of performing his,
r 2
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
•part. He began by an elaborate and prolonged inspection
of Mr. Pinclibold's stock-in-trade. The calf's-foot jelly,
he bottles of syrup, and the cakes having all been carefully
examined, Mr. Pudge fixed upon one particular sponge-
cake, and pointed it out in a marked and special manner,
with his forefinger directed towards it. Mr. Pinchbold,
with equal elaboration, selected this cake from his stock,
;and, holding it in his hand, descended to the front, in
.company with his friend, very much as the honest trades-
an an in a pantomime comes out of his shop and down to
-the foot-lights with Harlequin, when that unprincipled
.character is about to play him a trick. Indeed, the whole
"thing had at this moment a curious look of a pantomime,
and had any bystander been looking on he might almost
have persuaded himself that it would only take the waving
of a wand to turn Mr. Pinchbold into Pantaloon, Mr.
Fudge into Harlequin, Mazard into the fairy Do-good, the
carriole into an enchanted car, Blinkers into a dragon, and
the Forest of Fontainebleau into "the enchanted Palace of
Benevolence, all ablaze with pink fire.
Mr. Fudge and his friend, then, having taken up a
prominent position where all their movements could be
perfectly well seen—Mr. Pinchbold, however, still remain-
ing near enough to the  shop to show his connexion with
the business—the transaction which was to put Mr. Fudge
in possession of the coveted cake went on without further
delay, except that caused by the extreme slowness and care
with which the two performers went through their parts.
Never was a coin so long in reaching the hand held out to
receive it as the sou which Mr. Fudge drew out of his
pocket and delivered, after prolonged flourish and much
elaborate gesture, to the amateur pastrycook. Never was
any piece of goods so slow in delivery as that small article
of confectionery which Mr. Pinchbold handed to his friend
at last; whilst surely no sponge-cake was ever eaten with
such ceremony and demonstrativeness as were brought to
SURPRISED.
245
bear by Mr. Fudge upon the consumption of this important
morsel.
Mr. Fudge, leaning very much forward and conveying
his food to his mouth with a marvellous wave of the handr
was just committing the fourth mouthful to that region
where its merits could be most fully appreciated, when his
purpose was suddenly arrested by the simultaneous occur-
rence of a violent start on the part of Blinkers, the descent
of the  shop from its position on the wheel, a sharp cry
from Mr. Pinchbold, a volley of barks from Mazard, and
the apparition on every side of him at once, as it appeared,
of a party of ladies and gentlemen, on horseback, who had;
apparently then and there sprung out of the ground for his
and his friend's especial discomfiture. The fact is, that
though the two Englishmen had chosen their position well
in selecting a place where a long extent of road before and
behind them was exposed to view, they had at the same
time failed to remark that they were just at the entrance
of one of those green alleys already spoken of which com-
municate with other parts of the Forest, and ultimately
with the town of Fontainebleau itself. From this green
alley, then, whose pavement of turf rendered it peculiarly
adapted for purposes of surprise, the party by which our
friends found themselves surrounded had emerged. Whether
they had been for any length of time spectators of the
drama which we have feebly attempted to describe, or
whether the first they saw of it was what burst upon their
view at the moment when Mr. Fudge was engaged with his-
cake, while Mr. Pinchbold, girt about in his apron, and-
standing by the side of his shop, looked benignly on, it is
impossible to say. Mr. Pinchbold affirmed afterwards,
however, that he fancied that he had heard a covert laugh
at the moment when Mr. Fudge placed the sou in his hand.
Be this as it may, it is quite certain that every member of
that detested group was on the broad grin; and that one
young lady, whom Mr. Pinchbold mentions in his diary as-
246
A CRUISE UPON "WHEELS.
being gifted with great personal attractions, laughed so
much that she could scarcely sit in her saddle.
Mr. Pinchbold was a gentleman of a susceptible disposi-
tion, and keenly alive to the importance of making a
favourable impression upon that sex of which he was a
devoted and respectful admirer. What were his feelings,
then, at being discovered surrounded by confectionery
properties, and with a flowing white apron firmly girt
about him. To whisk this garment off and fling it into
the innermost recesses of the carriole, would not, after all,
have been much use; but even this subterfuge was not
possible, for Mr. Pinchbold had, in his eagerness to get rid
■of this appendage, entwined the strings into a tight knot.
In order, too, to get better at this fastening, the unfortunate
gentleman managed to twist the apron round so that it
hung at his back. It was unfortunately at this moment
that it occurred to this unhappy man that it would be a
good plan to veil himself from farther observation by taking
refuge in the carriole. Acting upon this impulse, Mr.
Pinchbold hastily turned round and commenced a rapid
ascent into the vehicle, his apron waving behind him in the
breeze. A roar of laughter, in which Mr. Fudge could not
help joining, saluted Mr. P.'s retreat; but all was not over
yet, for Blinkers, feeling that some one had ascended the
carriole, and taking it into his head that his burden was
•complete, started suddenly off at a good round pace, and
had already got to a considerable distance before Mr. Fudge
could overtake and stop him. As if, too, to make the con-
fusion still greater, the whole of what has been described
took place to an accompaniment of snarling and barking
■ occasioned by the noble behaviour of Mazard. A large
clog, belonging to some member of the equestrian party,
seeing that the contents of Mr. Pinchbold's  shop had
been scattered in all directions in consequence of the down-
lall of that place of business, commenced an instant assault
upon some of those sponge-cakes which had been provided
for Mazard's especial benefit. A dog so conscientious in
AN UTTER. ROUT.
247
•paying for everything he consumed as Mazard could not be
expected to stand such an unprincipled attack as this upon
his master's property. Bristling, therefore, in every hair
till he looked more like a porcupine than a dog, Mazard
instantly flew at the purloiner of Mr. Pinchbold's goods,
and pinned that dishonourable animal by the throat. A
furious combat ensued, but virtue was triumphant; and
when our two friends returned with the carriole in search
of the  shop and its contents, they found Mazard alone
mounting guard over the debris, his opponent and the
cavalcade to which he belonged being by this time far away
in the distance.
Mr. Pinchbold was in despair. He vowed that the
memory of this horrible mischance would haunt him to his
last hour; that he would retire from the world, and hide
in some obscure corner, where no one should ever see or
hear of him again. It was very well for Mr. Fudge, who
had had no ridiculous apron fastened round him, nothing
to hide except a morsel of sponge-cake—this morsel, by
the bye, Mr. Fudge found, to his astonishment, several
hours afterwards, in his trousers-pocket—but for him
(Pinchbold) the case was different. To be seen by all these
people, and by her, with that disgusting apron clinging
about him, standing by the side of a portable cupboard full
of cakes and jellies, in the middle of a forest!
 She was beautiful, too ! said Mr. Pinchbold, after a
pause, and speaking now in tones of calm despair— she was
beautiful'!
The interruption which had brought that transaction in
the cake trade, which we have attempted to describe, to so
sudden a termination, did not take place till all the more
important parts of the drama which our two friends had been
enacting were concluded. As regarded the education of
Mazard, then, no harm had been done by the violent
 shutting up of Mr. Pinchbold's shop. Nothing could
exceed the intense and tremendous interest with which the
dog had watched the progress of the little pantomime,
248
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
which had been got up for his benefit, from beginning to
end, and both Mr. Fudge and his friend conceived the most
sanguine hopes of the effect which it might be expected to
produce. It had been agreed, however, between them that
some time should be allowed to elapse, and that at least one
more repetition of the performance should take place before
any attempt should be made to ascertain how far Mazard
had been enlightened by what he had seen.
Mr. Pinchbold and his friend set themselves to work to
pick up the shop and its contents, which, beyond the
abstraction of one cake by the strange dog, and the breakage
of one of the bottles of syrup, had not suffered any damage.
As they were thus engaged, Mr. Pinchbold would from time
to time address his stock-in-trade in terms of deep and
pathetic reproach.
 In an evil hour, he said,  oh, bookcase ecclesiastical,
did my eye light on thee ! In an evil hour Avert thou
converted from thy former reverend office into a receptacle
for cakes, for jelly-moulds, and the like wretched Avares !
Woe to thee, and to the timber of which thou wert made,
for thou hast betrayed me into the most ludicrous mischance
into which ever man fell!
Our travellers noAV betook themselves once more to the
carriole, and it Avas not long before they began to discover
vmmistakeable signs of their being near the edge of the
forest, and about to emerge once more into the open country.
It was at this time that a marked change became manifest
in the behaviour of Blinkers, a degree of alacrity and im-
petuosity developing itself in his  running, which formed
a striking contrast to the despondency which had oppressed
him Avhile in the inclosure of the forest.
Mr. Fudge and his friend Avere now beginning to have a
better understanding of the little horse. The extraordinary
caprices to which he had given Avay on the afternoon when
they left Paris had been folloAved by a day of such good
behaviour, that the confidence of our two traArellers in their
new purchase Avas in a measure restored. Of course, Mr.
BLINKEKS.
249
Fudge could not fail to perceive that the horse he was
driving was a very different animal from the phlegmatic
and docile Bijou, but still he saw no signs of absolute vice
in Blinkers, and as long as a horse is not vicious, the
recurrence of occasional fits of friskiness is rather amusing
than otherwise. Blinkers ran away from the forest of
Fontainebleau as if the place was haunted, and all, the
wood-demons in full pursuit of him ; and when Mr. Fudge
wanted to pull him up, in order that he might purchase
some grapes in a village which lay in their way, it was
really quite a difficult matter to arrest his progress, or to
hold him still while the bargain for the grapes was being
effected.
This purchase of grapes was one of those little indications
of progress in their journey for which our travellers were
always on the look out. It was one of the chief attractions
of a journey such as this, that the advance made was so
slow and gradual, that the two Englishmen were able to
note the difference even between one department and
another, and to detect even the smallest gradation that
marked their approach to some new kind of scenery.
They were among the vineyards. They were in the-
middle of France. They were buying more delicious
grapes than they could eat for three halfpence. The vine-
yards were all around them, and as far as they could see;
even when, after they had rattled through Moret, they
paused on the brow of the hill which overlooks the great
plain in which Montereau is situated, the chief feature of
the landscape was still found in the presence of the vine-
yards. It is well to say that French vineyards are mere
fields of currant-bushes; one knoAvs that they are not
currant-bushes, and the resemblance did not make our tra-
vellers feel in the least less convinced that they Avere travel-
ling through a neAV country, and that the sun of the south
was shining on them, though with its most Avidely-extended
rays.
There certainly never Avas anything like the little horse's
£50
A CRUISE UPON "WHEELS.
impatience that day. While Mr. Fudge and his friend
were looking at the view, and admiring the winding of the
Seine in the valley, and the curious range of hills stopping
so abruptly above the town, Blinkers was fretting and
stamping, just as anxious for more work as if the two
previous days' journeys had been nothing more than a drive
in the Champs Elysees. The hill descended, the drag
taken off, everything seemed favourable to his desire of
getting on. At this time, too, our travellers were over-
taken and passed by the first vehicle which they had seen
that day. It was a very light cabriolet, drawn by an
immense and powerful horse, who stepped along as if he
were winning a trotting match. There was no holding in
Blinkers after this equipage had passed. Regardless of the
difference between himself and the gigantic animal whose
pace he was emulating, and of that which existed between
the cabriolet and the carriole, he set off after it, and it was
all Mr. Fudge could do to keep this excitable animal from
running his ambitious nose into the back panels of the
vehicle which preceded them. This headlong race lasted
for nearly an hour, and would doubtless have continued
much longer if it had not happened that, at the expiration
of the period just named, the cabriolet turned suddenly off
into a lane leading in a direction exactly contrary to that
which our travellers were pursuing. This stimulating
contest had, however, brought them so rapidly on their way,
that they found themselves at its conclusion at the entrance
to the town much earlier than they anticipated; and so, at
about four o'clock in the afternoon, they turned into the
open gates of the Hotel du Grand Monarque at Monte-
reau.
251
CHAPTER XIV.
the matter contained in this chapter will, it is hoped,
serve to convince the reader that the office of a  plain
cook is one surrounded with difficulties of the most
overwhelming sort.
The Grand Monarque was in a state of great bustle and
excitement, caused by the presence within its walls of the
officers belonging to a regiment which was on its way from
Paris to Lyons, and the men of which were scattered about
in different parts of the town, but all engaged in that one
occupation of peeling potatoes, to which all billeted soldiers
seem to be so specially devoted.
The Grand Monarque was inconveniently full, for not
only were there a dozen or so of these officers who were to
have it all their own way, as far as accommodation went,
but it chanced that, at the same time, there were staying in
the town several members of that class by which the inns
in the smaller French towns are almost entirely supported,
the commis voyageurs, or commercial travellers, who, in
the service of great Parisian and other firms, wander about
into all sorts of remote nooks and corners of the empire in
search of business. Our travellers had, it will be re-
membered, already encountered two gentlemen of this
description at the little town of Doullens, and they were
destined, in the course of their journey, to meet with many
more of them.
The inn, then, being thus occupied by the bagmen and
the military, there was but little room left for Mr. Fudge
and his friend. It is true that the waiter was ready enough
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
to promise our travellers every species of accommodation;
but it happened also, unfortunately, that this official was
but a powerless wretch, with no means of carrying out
those good intentions with which he seemed literally brim-
ming over. He was a slippery waiter, too, one of that
order of menials who is for ever disappearing at the exact
crisis when he is wanted, and whose notion of fetching you
any object you require is to rush off with immense alacrity
in search of it, and reappear no more. There was no end
to the bedrooms, the washing-stands, the present refresh-
ments, the future meals, which this unlucky youth (for he
was of tender years) pledged himself to produce ; but, un-
fortunately, when the moment for the fulfilment of his
pledge arrived, nothing was forthcoming ; and it was only
when Mr. Fudge, in desperation, absolutely laid hold of
him as he was running away, and refused to let him go,
that he at last showed the two friends into a large double-
bedded room, which he placed at their service. Poor
wretch, he had reckoned without his host, or rather his
hostess; for it was not many minutes before the voice of
the landlady was heard from without inquiring what he
promised to himself, by showing  those travellers into a
room already appropriated by the worthy gentleman who
travelled for the great firm of Sachet and Co., Paris.
Our two Englishmen were now ushered by the landlady
herself along several narrow passages, and up and down a
great many flights of steps, into the most huge and deserted-
looking ball-room that can be imagined, with a raised dais
at one end of it, and a music-gallery at the other. There
were three or four doors opening into it, and one of these
being opened by the landlady, disclosed what she pro-
nounced, with little ceremony, to be the only room left at
her disposal. It was a little room, as Mr. Pinchbold de-
scribes it, lighted by a window giving on the stable-yard, and
communicating with another smaller than itself, which was
also placed at the disposal of our travellers, and which had
no window at all, being illuminated only by an ceil de bceuf
THE GRAND MONARQUE.
253
over the door. There was nothing else to be had, so with
•a miserable joke on the advantage of having the ball-room
at hand for purposes of exercise, our travellers were fain to
put up with the accommodation offered them, tossing-up
for the ceil de bceuf apartment, after an amiable contest, in
which each gentleman had shown himself equally anxious
to become the proprietor of that sprightly chamber. It was
awarded by destiny to Mr. Pinchbold. Having got into
the ball-room apartment, the only wish that could be
formed by any person of sane mind would naturally be to
get out of it as soon, and keep out of it as long, as possible;
so the two friends just saw their luggage deposited, and then
set off to examine the town and its environs. They had
previously learnt from the landlady herself—for they put
no confidence in the announcements of the waiter—that
there would be some dinner to be had at six o'clock, or as
near that time as the necessity of providing for the officers
of the regiment would permit.
From the heights that overhang Montereau our travellers
looked on the first really fine view which they had seen in
the course of their journey. It is at this point that the
Seine and the Yonne unite their waters, the two rivers
becoming one in the very heart of the town, and flowing
on to Paris in combined strength. The windings of these
two rivers, as they approach the town from distant quarters,
the great stream formed by their junction rolling away into
the distance to Paris, Havre, the sea—these things in a land-
scape which was of itself full of beauties, were well worth a
struggle to the top of the great hill above the town to see.
To one of the branches of the great river which lay at their
feet a special interest attached in the eyes of the travellers,
for near, or along the banks of the Yonne, their route lay
for many miles, and, till they reached Auxerre, they would
scarcely quit its course for half an hour.
Mr. Fudge and his companion strained their eyes in the
direction in which they were to go, as if it was indicated by
the river's course; and both of them felt now more
254
A, CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
sanguine than they had ever done before as to the chances-
of reaching their journey's end. The resources already
shown by the gallant Blinkers were, indeed, very encourag-
ing. Except on the first day, when, coming from the Paris
livery-stables, where he had been probably half starved,
the little Irishman had done his work with ease; and
though it may be said that sixty miles in three days was
no great achievement, it was yet all that our travellers had
proposed to do, and that was something. Besides, to those
who are acquainted with horses and their capabilities, it is
well known that this regular daily demand on their
resources is a tremendous trial, and requires a very different
amount of strength to what is sufficient for a park-hack or
a brougham-horse about town. The fact is that Blinkers,
Avith his deep chest and short loins, Avas built for work;
while his diet which, noAV that he Avas on the road, was a
very full one, consisting of twelve litres of oats daily, kept
him at concert-pitch perpetually. It is astonishing what
diet will do for a horse. On those days when Mr. Fudge
had been able to see Blinkers fed himself, he could always
trace a greater degree of alacrity in his pace and general
conduct than Avhen he had been obliged to leave the little
horse to the mercy of officials. Often would this humane
gentleman get up in the dark (even when the carriole was
not to start till late in the day) simply that he might go
down to the stable and see the Irishman take his oats. And
it was necessary to be thus early, for unless he Avas in the
stable the very first thing in the morning, the ostler Avould
inform him, when he appeared there, that his horse had
already been fed. Mr. Fudge could then only look helplessly
into the empty manger, and think to himself,  there may
have been oats in it this morning, but there may not.
' Mr. Fudge and Mr. Pinchbold descended from the hill,
and re-entering the toAvn, regained their hotel in good, or
rather in too good, time for dinner. In the room deAroted
to the civilians who were in the hotel there was, it is true,
a cloth laid, but not a sign of anything to eat; while, to
A BAD DINNEK.
make it more aggravating still, a succession of dishes were
being continually carried across the yard to the greater
saloon, which had been appropriated to the use of the
military.
The dinner, when it did at last arrive, was not a fas-
cinating meal. The following description of it is found in
Mr. Pinchbold's notes:—•
 Pasta soup, very greasy and tallowy, so that the little
circular pasta devices floating about in it suggested irre-
sistibly that the soup was made of candles, the grease of
which was imperfectly melted, the morsels looking like bits
of tallow which had ' guttered down.' The odour of this
soup remained in the room during the whole time of
dinner.
 The soup removed, a dish was placed before us con-
taining two small cutlets of a horrible light grey tint; they
had probably made the circuit of the officers' table, and
been universally rejected. They were followed by a dish
containing two fag ends of the spleen or some other part of
the entrails of some animal, name unknown, and some
potatoes, characterized by an unhallowed sweetness, and a
taste of perfumery.
 The next course looked more hopeful at a distance, but,
on a closer inspection, turned out to be a little horrid joint
of veal, unnaturally tender to the knife, and with curious-
rosy patches, or spots, in the lean. By its side, on the
same plate, an object that looked like a haycock, composed
of wet and decayed vegetable matter, which had a combined
flavour of cheese, train-oil, and a cabbage which had been
staying six weeks in the country with a friend—whose name
might, or might not have been Dunghill.
It was possibly in consequence of the unsavoury, and
perhaps unwholesome, nature of the meal whose principal
characteristics have been thus indicated by Mr. Pinchbold,
that the determination of that gentleman and of his friend
and companion Mr. Fudge, was lashed up to that point
when the adoption of an extreme course becomes justifiable,
256
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
if not praiseworthy. At all events, some very remarkable
results came of that squalid meal, as the reader shall hear.
 This dinner, said Mr. Pinchbold, putting down his
fork, at the conclusion of an attack on the haycock just
mentioned,  is wholly uneatable ; I am as hungry as when
I sat down.
 I am more hungry, replied Mr. Fudge, despairingly.
 What are we to do ? inquired Mr. Pinchbold.
 I don't know, was Mr. Fudge's answer,  unless, he
added, in the tone of one who makes a suggestion which he
has no belief in,  unless an omelette 
 I am sick to death of omelettes, Mr. Pinchbold
interrupted.
 And so am I, answered his friend; after which both
gentlemen sat speechless for some moments.
 I'll tell you what, Mr. Pinchbold broke out at last,
 why shouldn't we cook something ourselves?
 Cook something ourselves, repeated Mr. Fudge,
meditatively ;  at the tripod which Ave bought at Malaise,
I suppose you mean ?
 I do, said Mr. Pinchbold.
 We have no charcoal, said Mr. Fudge.
 We can get some, replied Mr. Pinchbold.
"We have no meat, argued Mr. Fudge; "no vege-
tables, no water.
 There is Avater in the bottle in your room, Mr. Pinch-
bold persisted,  and everything else Ave can get in the
tOAvn, if we set out at once. And the enthusiastic gentle-
man started up, and clapping his hat upon his head, pro-
fessed himself to be ready for the enterprise.
"We will try, said Mr. Fudge, at length, thoroughly
roused; and they Avere both soon in the street.
At the corner of Brook-street and Bond-street, there is
a meat emporium, where symmetrical legs and haunches of
mutton, neatly floured and daintily trimmed, hang in rows
above one's head inviting the carving-knife.
In the French metropolis, there is a marvellous establish-
THE CONSEQUENCES.
257
ment in the Rue Tronchet, where there is a separate depart-
ment for every kind of meat, and even for the different
joints of the same animal, where an official, seated by the
door, hands you a card as you enter with the names of the
different meats printed on it, and space left in columns for
the weight, the price per pound, to be filled in after the
purchase is made ; where you are handed over by solemn
and mustachioed men, from one to another, till you reach
the department you are in search of, where a fierce gentle-
man cuts off your two pounds of the loin, and trims it with
the air of an artist, where three matrons sit on a raised
platform, like justices on a bench, and receiving your card
and your money, return you the first receipted with a
stamp; and where, finally, as you go out, the gentleman
who gave you the card on entering receives it again, and
secretes it in a place of security.
Now those persons who form their ideas of a butcher's
shop from that first mentioned, in Bond-street, or who,
having visited Paris, take their impressions of a French
butchery from that in the Rue Tronchet, would be sin-
gularly disappointed and surprised were they requested to
choose a joint from the shop of the chief butcher in the
town of Montereau.
To begin with, it was not easy to find it at all. The
town was, when Mr. Fudge and his friend emerged into its
main street, in a state of the profoundest and most dis-
couraging darkness, and our two Englishmen wandered and
stumbled along in ineffectual search for the object of their
desires, approaching every window where any light, even
the most feeble, appeared, in the desperate hope that it
might come from a butcher's shop. There was nothing of
the kind, however, to be seen, and they were at length
driven in desperation to take advice, or, in other words, to
consult the first responsible-looking native whom they saw,
as to what their course was to be. By this gentleman, who
was himself in the black pudding and sausage line, they
wore directed to turn aside out of the main street, to which
s
258.
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
they had hitherto confined themselves, and following a
certain narrow lane .which led down towards the river, to
inquire for one Lenoir, who kept a butchery.
 That man is sending us to our doom, said Mr. Pinch-
bold, as he and his friend descended the sausage-vendor's
steps.  I have a presentiment that Mr. Lenoir is a mur-
derer; that his butchery is a human butchery, and that
he lives near the river for the convenience of disposing
of 
This speech was delivered in broken tones, by reason of
the numerous stumbles, the sudden descents from paving-
stones to puddles, and the plunges from puddles back again
to paving-stones, by which the speaker's progress was
impeded. It was suddenly interrupted by an exclamation
from Mr. Fudge, who, having brought his head into violent
contact with an angle of masonry, rightly conceived that
they had arrived at the corner of the lane indicated by the
sausage-man.
 This must be the street, said Mr. Fudge, picking up
his hat, which had been knocked off.  I can see the river
gleaming at the end of it. I wish we had brought the
lantern, he added, as Mr. Pinchbold bumped heavily
against him.
 I wish we had brought Mazard, replied Mr. Pinch-
bold;  his barking might have awakened suspicion, and
led, at least, to the avenging of our assassination.
Mazard had been left, tied up in the inn, Mr. Pinchbold
being afraid that the dog might yet, in spite of the distance
from Paris, make some attempt to escape, if taken out in a
strange place in the dark.
Our adventurers had now arrived opposite a little sort of
hovel, which was distinguished from the others in the row
of which it formed one, by the dim gleam of a single candle;
there was a sort of wooden shelf just inside, and level with
the window-sill, and on it was a bullock's heart, a strip of
mutton fat, a marrow-bone (empty), and half a kidney.
A dark form, distantly resembling the decapitated head of
THE BUTCHER'S SHOP.
259
some member of the animal creation, loomed faintly in the
background, and on an execution blo«k in the middle of
this attractive apartment, was a terrific axe. The block
was also decorated with several formidable-looking and
pointed knives, stuck symmetrically all round it.
"Those knives, said Mr. Pinchbold,  carry out my
idea.
 All butcher's shops are furnished with knives, argued
Mr. Fudge.
"Not like this, retorted Mr. Pinchbold ;  besides, it is
evident that the shop is a mere blind. There is no meat
in it.
 There is a bullock's heart, a strip of mutton, and the
head of a—of a—
 What do you desire ? said a voice, emanating from
some one so immediately behind Mr. Pinchbold, that that
gentleman sprung at least six inches into the air with a cry
■of horror.
The words were spoken in the bass clef, in the French
language, and were uttered by no less a person than M.
Xenoir himself, who had been standing all the time on the
•other side of the narrow lane, admiring his own shop.
 What have you got ? inquired Mr. Fudge.
The butcher drew a pointed instrument from his girdle,
and struck it straight into the centre of the bullock's heart.
 It is too large, said Mr. Fudge, with a slight shudder;
 and, he added, scarcely knowing what he said,  too
juicy; we should like some mutton.
The butcher caught the strip of fat, of which mention
has been made, on the top of the pointed instrument, and
held it up admiringly, as if it was drapery.
"It is too fat, said Mr. Fudge.
 Tell him, suggested Mr. Pinchbold, desperately,
*l that we want a little bit to boil.
Mr. Fudge communicated his friend's suggestion. The
butcher went into his shop and disappeared down a trap-
•door at the back part of it. Presently the carcass of an
s 2
260
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
entire sheep appeared in the month of the trap, and ascend-
ing gradually, disclosed a pair of human legs—those of the
butcher—beneath it. It was an immense animal, and the
butcher deposited it on the block with a sigh of relief.
 Don't cut up a sheep on my account, interposed Mr.
Fudge. But he spoke to little purpose; M. Lenoir had
split the deceased animal down the centre of its vertebras
in no time. Selecting one of its halves, he marked out
with his knife about a quarter of the whole carcase, and
said, laconically—
 About that much ?
"No, said Mr. Fudge; "much less.
 So much ? said the butcher, indicating about six
pounds.
 Too much, reiterated Mr. Fudge.
The butcher came down to about five pounds, but Mr.
Fudge still protested that it was too much. It ended in
his requesting that the smallest portion possible should be
cut off", and even then the friends staggered away under a
tolerable load.
Having next secured some vegetables, which were sold
by the butcher's next-door neighbour—an old lady who
kept them in a pan under her bed—our two friends now
stumbled back again to the inn. The meat and vegetables
were concealed under Mr. Fudge's loose coat and in Mr.
Pinchbold's pockets, and were hid very successfully. It is
true that Mr. Pinchbold dropped a large carrot as he passed
the bar of the inn, and just as the eye of the landlady was
upon him, but he had the presence of mind to mutter some
general assertion about  carrots being good for horses,
and as they were going in the direction of the stable to get
the cooking-basket out of the carriole, this jesuitical remark
seemed plausible enough.
It is astonishing how far you may carry the preparation
for some great act without perceiving that some indis-
pensable portion of the paraphernalia required for the
realization of your project is wanting. Mr. Fudge had set
PLAIN COOKING.
261
up the tripod in a convenient position close to the window
of his apartment; he had filled the saucepan with water,
and had hacked with a pocket-knife the mutton into such a
joint as there was some hope of squeezing into the pot—
Mr. Fudge had accomplished all this, and Mr. Pinchbold
had scraped half-a-dozen carrots and as many turnips,
"before either gentleman had remembered that they had no
fuel.
It was a baffling thought, but our friends had advanced
too far to recede, and it was not long before Mr. Fudge—
with his lantern in his hand this time—was off once more
in search of a certain kind of charcoal called  braises,
which is made of something so light, that it seems rather to
be the pith of wood than Avood itself, and which ignites and
burns much more freely than the ordinary kind of charcoal.
Mr. Fudge was not long absent, and on his return with an
immense parcel full of braises, there was nothing wanted in
the preparations for the great enterprise in Avhich our
intrepid voyagers had pledged themselves to engage.
It is extraordinary how very far a gentleman Avith a
saucepan, a fire, Avater, meat, and vegetables, all ready to
his hand, may be from being in a position to produce a
dish of boiled mutton. A kind of paralysis Avas upon both
our friends now that they found themselves surrounded by
all the requisite machinery for cooking, and neither of them
for some time was able, if his life had depended on it, to
advance a step farther.
 Noav then, said Mr. Pinchbold,  everything seems
ready.
"Yes, replied his friend, "everything. Would you
like to begin ?
 No, said Mr. Pinchbold, carelessly,  no; you had
better begin.
 Yes, that's all very Avell, answered Mr. Fudge;  but
hoAV do you begin ?
 I thought you knew, said Mr. Pinchbold, Avildly.
 There are one or tAvo points, replied his friend,
262
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
 about which I am in doubt, and they are rather impor-
tant. I don't know whether we ought to put the meat
into the water cold, and then let it warm gradually, or to
boil the water first and then put the meat in it. Then I
am not sure, supposing the meat once in the water, how
lono- it ought to boil, nor am I certain whether, indeed, it
ought to boil at all.
 Boiled mutton surely ought to boil, remarked Mr.
Pinchbold, sententiously.
 There is a detestably mysterious and indefinite process
called simmering, replied Mr. Fudge,  which I believe is
at the very root of all cookery, but for the life of me I
can't tell what it is.
 I should think, from the sound, observed Mr. Pinch-
bold,  that it was a kind of hissing bubble.
 Well, we must try, said Mr. Fudge, desperately; and
in went the meat into a saucepanful of cold water, in which
a quantity of chopped carrots and turnips were already
soaking.
 It looks queer, said Mr. Pinchbold, looking at the raw
meat as it lay at the bottom of the saucepan with a suspi-
cious air ;  I hope it's all right.
The usual results of amateur cookery began now to
develop themselves. Everything that Mr. Fudge touched
burnt him, and everything that touched Mr. Pinchbold
scalded him. The two gentlemen got in each other's way,
differed in opinion as to the progress of the mutton, became
hot and irritable. Then the mutton, one minute ago in
tepid water, boiled over the moment that it was left.
Moreover, it wholly declined to simmer. If it was placed
upon the fire it boiled in the most furious manner, while if
it was removed and cunningly balanced on the edge of
the chafing-dish and the rim of a washing-basin, it became
stone cold. To let it boil was the only thing to be done
under these circumstances, and boil it did with a ven-
geance.
 It has suddenly changed colour, said Mr. Fudge, after
PLAIN- COOKING.
263
inspecting progress for about the fiftieth time;  I wonder
if it is done ?
 Probe it with the point of your knife, suggested Mr.
Pinchbold. "Is it soft? he added, as his friend obeyed
this injunction.
 No, replied Mr. Fudge,  I can't say it is.
 Ah, then, said Mr. Pinchbold, who, finding that his
friend was ignorant upon the subject, became quite autho-
ritative in tone,  then you may depend upon it that it
isn't done. ' Boil till tender' is a direction I am sure I
have read in some cookery-book.
 If boiling will do it, said Mr. Fudge, mistrustfully,
 we are all right.
He might well say so. The pace at which that mutton
was boiling was something without a parallel in the annals
of cookery. It leapt, it bubbled, it knocked its own lid
off, it nearly put the fire out, it spirted bits of hard carrot
out into the room, it almost bounced out of the pot itself,
but somehow or other it did not get soft.
"Itis getting harder, said Mr. Fudge, after probing the
meat again.
 Boil till tender, repeated Mr. Pinchbold; and away
they went again.
At the end of another quarter of an hour, Mr. Fudge
probed once more, and at the expiration of twice that
time the mutton was decidedly considerably harder than
ever.
 Perhaps it has boiled too much, suggested Mr. Pinch-
bold.
 It seems highly probable, said Mr. Fudge, who had
just scalded his mouth in tasting the liquor of the mutton,
and was rather snappish in consequence.
 We had better ' dish up,'  remarked Mr. P.
There was only one difficulty about  dishing up, and
that consisted in the absence of a dish. However, the lid
of the saucepan was propped up in a dexterous manner,
so as to supply this deficiency as well as might be, and the
264
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
mutton was speedily harpooned up out of the depths of the
pot and placed upon table—
 Hallo, cried Mr. Pinchbold, on first catching sight of
it; "I am afraid this wont do.
The aspect of the meat certainly justified Mr. P.'s alarm.
It was reduced to about one-third of its original dimen-
sions, was quite white, and presented a shrivelled appear-
ance, precisely similar to that which characterizes the
arms of a washerwoman after a hard day of it among the
soapsoads.
 Uneatable ! remarked Mr. Pinchbold, after an ineffec-
tual effort to swallow the portion of flesh which Mr. Fudge
had managed after much muscular exertion to hack off for
his benefit.
 Uneatable ! reciprocated Mr. Fudge, after a similar
failure on his own part.
 How are the vegetables ? inquired Mr. Pinchbold.
 If they were blocks of steel, his friend answered,
 they could not be harder.
 And the broth ? asked Mr. Pinchbold, once more.
 Seems all to have boiled away, replied Mr. Fudge,
looking into the pot,  except a little drop at the bottom.
 And that is burnt, remarked Mr. Pinchbold, tasting
the liquor that was left, with an ivory tea-spoon.
The two friends sat for some time gazing at each other
in speechless and powerless bewilderment, while Mazard
disposed with some difficulty of the boiled mutton. The
dog's appetite had manifestly improved (as had his whole
demeanour) since the scene in the forest, and by the intense
interest and joy with which he had watched the whole of
the boiling process just described, it became evident that
he was fast coming to the conclusion that he was still in
the  cook and confectionery line, and that the cooking
transaction of which he had just been a witness was in some
way connected with the business.
 Is there nothing else we could try ? inquired the un-
PLAIN COOKING.
265
happy Mr. Pinchbold, who was sitting nibbling at his
bread, the incorporation of famine.
Mr. Fudge cast a glance round the room, and his eye
lit upon the frying-pan, which, as well as the saucepan just
used, and a small gridiron, formed part of the cooking
apparatus originally purchased at Malaise. Mr. Fudge
remembered that among the stores laid in previous to
their start was a large piece—nearly half a flitch—of bacon.
Mr. Fudge rose from his place, and advancing to the
provision basket, applied his nose to the bacon, which was
there safe enough. Having expressed his approval of the
condition of this important article of food, Mr. F. brought
it to the table, and having sharpened his knife, by putting
it and that of Mr. Pinchbold through a sort of frantic
broadsword exercise, proceeded to cut two symmetrical
slices or rashers from the flitch. This done, Mr. Fudge
next gave his attention to the fire, and having added some
more fuel, and waited during its complete ignition, he
placed the two slices of bacon in the frying-pan, and the
frying-pan in turn upon the fire. There was a moment's
pause, and then during a death-like silence a faint sound
composed of something between a hiss and a crackle broke
upon the ears of our two famishing friends. At this
moment a faint and cannibalic smile might have been
observed upon the features of Mr. Pinchbold, and it was
not long before a similar expression became developed on
those of Mr. Fudge. Presently Mr. Pinchbold indulged in
a gentle sniff.
 What a delicious smell! he said, in a whisper.
11 Don't speak, replied Mr. Fudge, in a similar tone.
The hissing had now gained considerably in force and
volume, and a delicious fragrance filled the apartment. Mr.
Fudge turned the bacon.
lt One side done, said that gentleman. Another long
pause, more hissing and crackling, and Mr. Fudge spoke
again.
266
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
 Hold your plate, lie said.
Mr. Pinchbold held his own plate, and then he held Mr.
Fudge's plate, and then when each plate had received its
burden, each gentleman sat down, and using a bit of crust
as a fork—it does very well—and a clasp-knife to cut the
bacon, gave himself over to the full enjoyment of the
moment.
 More! said Mr. Pinchbold, having finished his
rasher.
 More ! cried Mr. Fudge, seizing the frying-pan.
Who shall describe the delight of that meal. Led up to
by a long course of French cookery, latterly not of the best
kind; immediately preceded by the failure of the boiled
mutton, that dish of bacon seemed to both our travellers
the most delicious thing they had ever tasted. The fact is
that there is something pre-eminently agreeable about a
furtive meal. The boy at school who partakes of a three-
cornered tart under the lid of his desk, or the lady traveller
who nibbles at a sandwich half-concealed in her reticule,,
both of them get more satisfaction out of the respective
viands they consume, than they would derive from far more
savoury matters eaten openly.
The worst thing, however, about furtive cookery is the
difficulty of disposing of the fragments, the bits of fat and
bone which remain when the meal is over, encrusted in a
disgusting coagulation of cold grease. Our amateurs, after
a long consultation on this subject, were compelled to have
recourse to that last refuge of the desperate—a sheet of
newspaper. Into this the horrible remains of the supper
were remorselessly pushed, and the whole parcel, bound up
with string was placed on the window-sill that the night-
air might ventilate it.
 It is like the 'body,' after a murder, said Mr. Pinch-
bold ;  what are we to do with it to-morrow !
 We must take it with us, replied Mr. Fudge, "and
when we have arrived at some spot where no human eye
can mark our proceedings, we will cast it down by the
"the body.
267
wayside and fly from the spot with all the speed we cart
make.
It was well for our travellers that the enormous amount
of bustle and confusion caused by the number of officers
staying in the house, absorbed all attention, and kept the
staff of the inn too much employed to have any leisure for
watching the proceedings of Mr. Fudge and his friend.
This inn-staff was not a large one, consisting, according to
Mr. Pinchbold, of a patron—the name by which the land-
lord is always called—a patron who was a nonentity, and
who waited at table; a horrid old woman, the patron's
wife, who governed the establishment; the gar9on already
mentioned, who promised everything and performed nothing,
and who was incessantly called to order by the cracked
voice of the landlady; an execrably sulky chambermaid,
and an ostler to match. All these people were kept in an
active state of attendance on the military, and we repeat-
that it was well it was so, as the mere smell produced by
the performances of our amateur cooks was so powerful that
it must have infallibly betrayed them if anybody had
approached their corner of the house. Even as it was a
certain old officer who was stumbling along the ball-room
on his way to bed was distinctly heard by Mr. Pinchbold to
sniff several times in a sharp and suspicious manner, and
then to utter these remarkable words :
 Hold, hold ! one would say that the kitchen must be
near here 1
263
CHAPTER XV.
conveys me. fudge and his friend from montereau to sens.
in the course of their journey their early illusions on
the subject of happy peasants and beautiful vivandieres
are finally and for ever dispelled.
It was still dark—pitch dark—the next morning, when
Mr. Fudge, who had slept through a succession of noises
which might have awakened the Seven Sleepers themselves,
was gradually aroused to a sense of consciousness by a com-
bination of sounds which one would have thought insufficient
to disturb the slumbers of the lightest sleeper in existence.
 What sounds were those ? Mr. Fudge asked himself,
in his imperfectly awakened state;  where was he ? Was
this delicious music that awakened the night echoes a reality
or a dream ? It was music, soft, far off, so far off that no
single instrument could be discerned, only a mellowed
harmony of sound, softened, as it seemed, quite as much by
the darkness as by the distance. Gradually as the sleeper,
still but half-awake, continued to listen, he seemed to detect
that the sounds which held him in such rapt delight were
drawing nearer. Then it was not long before he was able
to distinguish that this harmony was made up of many
instruments, and that one of these which appeared to keep
the rest together, and measure out the time to all, was a
drum.
Mr. Fudge would not wake, he would not admit what
reason told him, that the sounds he listened to were pro-
duced by the band of the regiment which was quartered in
THE TROOPS MARCH PAST.
269
Montereati, that the troops had been collected together in
another part of the town, and were marching past the
Grand Monarque in their way out of it. All this Mr.
Fudge knew to be the case, but still he would not have it.
He kept his eyes tightly closed, and his mind's eye was
sealed also to all acknowledgment of the facts of the world
outside. Let him listen to that music as to some mysterious
thing that he could not account for. Listening to it so, it
did him good. There was not one high emotion, not one
noble aspiration which had ever had possession of his mind
that did not seem to return at this time, bringing such
sense of refreshment with it as always follows from the
stirring of the better purpose within us. But was this all ?
Were there no other depths reached by those sounds?
With the force of a dream—and greater force there is none
—there came upon him a crowd of ancient memories,
inhabitants of some storehouse of the mind, the gates of
which that music had unlocked. No recollection of his
boyish days, no remembrance of early manhood, of that
brightest moment of life when the world wears such a
pleasant face that we fancy it has not got a single frown,
or even a grave look in store for us, not one memory of this
time but came back then and lived its time again.
But the music gets fainter. The dull tramp of measured
footsteps which accompanied it is heard no longer, and soon
the larger and lighter objects in the room become pronounced
sufficiently for Mr. Fudge to know that another day is
breaking, a day when he may lay up new and happier
memories for the future that is yet in store.
Our travellers had a long journey before them, so when
Mazard came trotting out of Mr. Pinchbold's room into that
occupied by Mr. Fudge as if on purpose to call him, that
gentleman jumped out of bed, though it was still too dark
to see distinctly, and called aloud to Mr. Pinchbold to
follow his example.
It was just eight o'clock when our two friends drove
away from the door of the Grand Monarque. The morning
270
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
was bitter cold but dry, and everything seemed to promise
a fine day. Mr. Fudge and his companion were just felici-
tating themselves upon this circumstance, and were also m
•a high state of glee at the success of the cooking operations
of the previous night, when they heard some one calling
loudly after them.
Mr. Fudge immediately pulled up, and he had hardly
done so when the garijon of the hotel, quite out of breath
with the pace he had been running at, came up to the side
of the carriole, and respectfully handed in a parcel which
he said they had left behind them at the hotel. Whether
it was that the pace at which the waiter had been running
had disarranged the package, or that it had been originally
but indifferently secured, or, which is still more likely, that
the thing had been pre-arranged by the hotel authorities as
a revenge for an implied insult to the establishment—from
whichever of these causes what we are going to relate arose,
it is useless and impertinent to inquire—but certain it is
that at the moment when the ga^on respectfully handed
the parcel into the carriole, it came loose, and the whole of
its contents, consisting of half-a-dozen bones of neck of
mutton imperfectly picked, a large piece of the more worth-
less portion of the same joint in its normal state of rawness,
several carrots, some turnips, and some rind of bacon, all
these things came rolling and tumbling out one over another
on the apron of the carriole.
There was nothing for it in such a case as this but flight.
Mr. Pinchbold, who was very sensitive on the subject of
appearances, sunk back with a hollow groan, and Mr.
Fudge, without paying any attention to the malignant
apologies of the garcjon, who exclaimed at sight of the
broken victuals just described,  Ah ! the provisions of
Monsieur Mr. Fudge, we say, started his horse as rapidly
. as he was able, scattering the remains of the furtive meal in
all directions, and leaving the waiter to make whatever
comments on this tremendous incident the peculiar nature
of his mind might suggest to him.
THE DESERTED ROAD.
271
The archbishopric of Sens for a night resting-place, and
the village of Pont-sur-Yonne for the midday baiting, this
was the programme of our travellers' day. The whole
distance from Montereau to Sens was about twenty-seven
miles, and the village just named broke it at something
more than half way. It was a glorious morning, the first
early chill soon passed away, and the sun blazed out with
almost summer force. It was at such times as these that
the full enjoyableness of the enterprise in which our two
Englishmen were engaged made itself felt. It was at such
times as these that this journey among the deserted post-
roads of France seemed even to surpass all that they had
anticipated from it. Deserted, indeed, these roads were,
even more than either Mr. Fudge or his friend had expected.
It was sometimes almost awful to go so far, and travel so
long as they did without encountering a single soul, with-
out meeting or overtaking a single vehicle. The roads
seemed hardly worth keeping up with the traffic so com-
pletely withdrawn from them, and the cantonniers or road-
menders, who were stationed at rare intervals along the
way, looked up in astonishment as the travellers passed
them by.
How slowly they wound along those  deserted roads,
but not too slowly. At every turn of the wheel almost,
some fresh source of pleasure or interest seemed to reveal
itself, and not once since that journey had begun had ennui
or weariness been felt by either one of the two gentlemen,
whose journey was such a subject of surprise to all who
heard of it.
There is always something to mitigate human enjoyment,
and it must be confessed that this something on this parti-
cular morning was furnished by Blinkers. Nothing could
exceed the aggravation of his behaviour. The day was so
warm that the flies, which are particularly venomous in
autumn, beset the little horse rather closely. This might
be some excuse for a certain amount of irritability, but not
for such frantic proceedings as those in which this animal
272
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
indulged. Not only did he kick at his stomach with his
near hind-leg so incessantly that Mr. Fudge fully expected
that he would lame himself by bringing his foot into such
constant collision with the hard road as he did after every
kick. Not only did he do the same with his fore-foot also,
but he would absolutely every now and then make an
• attempt to stop, in order more completely to devote himself
to the conflict with his enemies. What made it worse, too,
was that Mr. Pinchbold would insist that there was some-
thing wrong with the harness, and would get down to
inspect it, and to try whether certain alterations in the
arrangement of some of the straps, would not, as he
expressed it, u make things go more comfortably. But as
Mr. P.'s alterations had always to be restored to their
original state, his interference in this matter was not pro-
ductive of much benefit, and had even this additional ill-
effect, that Blinkers finding his misconduct rewarded by an
occasional stoppage of some duration while Mr. Pinchbold
made his experiments, became more outrageous than ever
in his goings-on.
Mr. Fudge was so tired of struggling with this aggravating
little animal that it was quite a relief to him when, at about
twelve o'clock, the first few houses of the village where they
were to rest showed but a short way off. It was a dismal,
grey-looking place this Pont-sur-Yonne, and was not to be
reclaimed from its innate melancholy even by the presence
of a troop of soldiers picqueted in its dismal Place. There
is surely nothing comparable to a French village for
depressing the human mind. There are in our own
country to be found here and there certain small towns and
villages which may be regarded as no mean adepts in the
art of guiding man to self-destruction, but the worst of
them is a cheery and frolicsome residence in comparison to
the average of French villages. The first person you meet
on entering one of these hamlets is invariably an idiot, and
the second, who is always a hideous old woman, you would
set down as the most ancient inhabitant, if it were not that
STAGE VILLAGERS.
273
you go on meeting still older ones as you advance. Old
women, idiots, and children everywhere, till at last you
conclude that all the younger portion of the peasantry must
have gone up to Paris to figure in that tremendous corps of
impostors who come capering on to the stage to assist at the
nuptials of the faithful Pierre and Pauline, the Pride of that
Stage Village which has no existence upon earth.
A hideous vivandiere, attached to the regiment which
was picqueted in the Grande Place, was going from house
to house trying to get provisions, and though she did not
seem to be particularly successful, she had at least got, as
it appeared at first, all that was to be had. Mr. Fudge and
his friend were altogether rejected at the principal inn of
the place; and at the second they were informed that,
though it was possible their horse might be put up, it was
quite out of the question that they themselves could be
provided with so much as a crust of bread or a cup of cafe
au lait.
 Hang it, cried Mr. Fudge, as this repulse, delivered
by a virago of a woman, reached his ears,  what fictions
the world is deluded by. Why are vivandieres supposed to
be pretty, mine host or hostess to be jolly, and peasants a
picturesque and happy race, with cherry ribbons in their
straw hats, dancing after a waggon full of grapes ? Look at
the reality. Look at those peasants; were ever any human
beings so squalid, so hideous, so sulky, so depressed ? Look
at that vivandiere, with her glazed hat like a wherryman, her
round shoulders with a paletot over them, and her hideous
and misshapen trousers peeping out from under her petti-
coat; was there ever such a monster of ugliness ? And
then, for a jolly hostess, what do you think of this scowling
lady, who will not let us into her house, who will give us
nothing to eat or drink, and whose inn looks about as
festive as an undertaker's shop on a wet Sunday afternoon ?
It is time these delusions were exposed. It is time 
 Time, Mr. Pinchbold interposed,  that Blinkers was
put up before he has kicked his shoes off his feet in making
T
274-:
A CPvUISK UPON WHEELS.
useless plunges at those detestable flies. Come, we must
put him in the stable at any rate, and perliaps the landlady
may thaw by-and-by ; we have evidently taken her at an
unlucky moment.
Mr. Fudge followed his friend's advice. Blinkers was
handed over to an infirm and paralytic ostler, who, how-
ever, proved so unequal to the charge that Mr. Fudge was:
obliged himself to interpose, and unharness and feed this
irritable animal with his own hands. This done, Mr.
Pinchbold devoted himself to the work of fascinating the
landlady, and with such success that when he rejoined his
friend, it was with the agreeable information that this
previously unmanageable lady had promised them a meal of
some kind or other (though what, she declined to say)
within the comparatively brief space of half an hour.
Mr. Fudge and Mr. Pinchbold walked up the inn-yard
towards the stable in which Blinkers had been placed,
rather uncertain how to fill up the intervening time. They,
found the little horse and Mazard together; the former
eating his oats, and the latter engaged in philanthropically
watching him. Indeed, between these two animals a fast
and cordial friendship was rapidly becoming established. It
was not long after the second start from Paris that Mr. Fudge
witnessed from a place of concealment the commencement
of their acquaintance, the ceremony having been inaugurated
by a lengthened smelling on the part of each animal of the
other's nose—-a proceeding from which • they appeared to
derive the most vivid satisfaction, and to conceive the
highest possible opinion of each other's qualities from that
moment.
The sight of Mazard reminded our two friends of the
necessity they were under of renewing that attempt to
beguile the dog into a return to his old performance which
had been brought to so sudden a termination in the Forest
of Fontainebleau. Now was the very time: The inn-yard
was deserted, the stable was a retired place, the ostler was
gone home to his dinner, and there were no. signs of life
IRIENiBSHIP.
275
about the place. Never could there be a better opportunity
of recommencing Mazard's education than at that moment.
So the two friends went to work again with a will, and in
a very few minutes everything was ready for the under-
taking. They were not interrupted this time; and when
the transaction, which was carried on exactly as on the
previous occasion, was brought to an end, Mr. Fudge took
Mazard aside and offered Mm a sou. The dog instantly
took it, and, returning to where Mr. Pinchbold was standing
by the side of his shop, went through the whole of his
performance exactly as of old, and finished by devouring
the cake which he had come by in so honourable a manner
with immense appetite and relish.
. From this moment the complete and perfect restoration
of Mazard to his former health and spirits might be said to
date. From this moment both Mr. Pinchbold and Mr.
Fudge lost all fear with regard to his attempts to escape,
and all precautions for his security were from this time
forth wholly abandoned.
By the time that Mazard's performance was concluded,
the meal which had been preparing for our travellers was
ready, and they were requested to walk into the salle-a-
manger, and partake of it. The salle-a-manger was on the
ground floor, and its entrance was on one side of the great
arch which led into the stable-yard, the kitchen being on
the other. The shutters of this room were firmly closed,
as nobody ever seemed to want it; and when they had at
hist, with some difficulty, been forced open by the landlady,
they disclosed one of the most dismal apartments which the
mind of man can picture to itself. A room left in the
condition in which it was last used, With the ashes yet in
the grate, the crumbs of an ancient meal still upon the
floor, and the stains of wine yet upon the table, must
necessarily always be a melancholy spectacle, even when
the walls are not, as they were in this case, painted in
imitation of blocks of grey stone, cemented together with
green mortar.
t 2
276
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
The landlady had provided a sweetbread, an excellent
omelette, fresh grapes, and some very tolerable wine, as a
repast for our travellers; and this ferocious woman turned
out, after all, to be really most amiable, and anxious to
secure the comfort of her guests. The excellence of the
sweetbread was, indeed, such as those who have only par-
taken of this viand as it is handed to them at a London
dinner-party, where it sometimes does duty for the fourth
or fifth time, can form but little idea. A calf had been
slaughtered, it seemed, for the benefit of the soldiers, and
all of it had been, secured before the arrival of Messrs.
Fudge and Pinchbold, with the exception of the sweet'
bread—too expensive a luxury for any one to venture on.
The troops were out of Pont-sur-Yonne long before our
Englishmen had concluded their meal; and when the two
friends strolled out into the street everything was quiet, and
the place in its normal condition of desertion and gloom.
It was two hours afterwards that Mr. Fudge and his friend
recommenced their journey ; and the soldiers had got such
a start that they never overtook them. The streets of
Sens were full of the troops when our travellers arrived
there, and one of the two hotels of which this fine old town
has to boast was crammed with officers to such an extent
that Mr. Fudge and his companion at once determined
that they would take up their quarters at the other, which
was called the Hotel de Paris, and had a quiet and comfort-
able appearance which was very attractive.
Our travellers were altogether so well pleased with what
they saw of Sens in taking a stroll about the town, that
they came to the determination of making a stay of two
days there. There were other reasons besides the attrac-
tiveness of the place for coming to this decision. The next
day was Saturday, and if they went on to Joigny they
would have to spend the Sunday at that place. This, if,
which was not unlikely, the inn turned out a failure, would
be disagreeable enough; while at Sens they were sure of
tolerable quarters for the Sunday's rest. Besides all this,
BLUE FIRE.
277
both Mr. Fudge and his friend felt that it was wise to accus-
torn Blinkers to travelling by degrees, and not to try him
too much at first; so it was arranged that they should
sleep that night, and on the Saturday and Sunday nights
as well, at Sens, and not start for Joigny till Monday
morning.
There was, however, one more reason why the two
friends felt strongly disposed for a halt. As they were
passing through the market-place, their attention was
attracted by a bill posted up against the wall containing an
announcement of a fete, which was to commence the next
day, and which was to combine every form of amusement
known to man. It was to be a scene of enchantment
and delight, and was to end with a display of fireworks, of
which the following is the programme, literally trans-
lated:—
Commencement.
Six Bound Atmospheric Curls of varied Colours.
First Discharge of Fire.
One Waving Sun, furnished with Fifteen varied Jets, and Fires of
Colour.
Intermediate.
Three Artichokes; Three Volcanoes; Eighteen Flying Fusees.
Second Discharge of Fire.
One Hedge of young Hornbeam Trees; Six Chinese, with a Sun
before them; Divers Jets.
Intermediate.
Four Whirlwinds; Twenty brilliant Torches, and Sixty Fusees of
various Colours.
Third Discharge of Fire.
Portico of the Acropolis; Detonating Branch-candlesticks
Twenty-five Chinese Jets; Pots of Stars of all Colours;
Thirty Flames of varied Shades.
m
A CRUISE UPON "WHEELS.
Conclusion.
220 Fusees; 100 Bombs of adieu; Luminous rain of Diamonds, of
Gold; and Silver.
Fire of Bengal.
 I should like, said Mr. Pinchbold, when he had finished
reading this announcement,  to see a firework which
bears the designation of a 1 hedge of young hornbeam
trees.' 
"And I, replied Mr. Fudge, "should like to study the
'four whirlwinds, the detonating branch-candlesticks, and
the bombs of adieu.' 
"We will go, said Mr. Pinchbold.
279
CHAPTER XVI.
4i SHORT CHAPTER, IN WHICH OUR TRAVELLERS MAKE THE ACQUAINT-
ANOE OP THE HUNGRY MAN OP SENS, AND ALSO THAT OP A
COMMERCIAL RECLUSE, AN INHABITANT OP THE SAME CITY.
The humble historian who has undertaken to record the
progress from place to place of the two English gentlemen,
David Fudge and Francis Pinchbold, has not set before
himself the task of rivalling the admirably complete Guide-
Book of France, published by Mr. John Murray, of Albe-
marie-street. Those who desire to know all about the city of
Sens, or, indeed, any other of the places mentioned in this
narrative, can get all the information they need from the
excellent work just mentioned. Our business is with other
matters than statistical returns, or even (except in rare
instances) with descriptions of scenery, or of objects of
interest. Our business is almost entirely "with matters of a
personal nature ; in a word, this is the history of a certain
portion of the lives of a couple of English gentlemen ; it is
not a gazetteer of France.
If to eat, drink, sleep, and be clothed, to inhale delicious
air, and to be surrounded with beautiful scenery, were all,
how happily and how easily might a man live at a place
like Sens. It is almost bewildering for one who groans
under the preposterous costliness of life in the English
metropolis, to think of what he might live for in one of
these French country-towns—living better, too, and with
more luxuries about him, than ever fall to the lot of the
inhabitants of the great capitals. What milk, what eggs,
280
A CRUISE UPON "WHEELS.
what butter, what vegetables are to be had here, and to be
had at what a rate of cheapness. Truly, the society of our
fellow-men must be a precious thing to us that we sacrifice
so much to obtain it—sacrifice so much, pay so much, bear
so much. What fresh invigorating air, what clean, qnd
wholesome, and unadulterated food, what country sights and
sounds of loveliness, in the place of rows of brick-and-
mortar, and din of vehicles, go to make up the sacrifice;
and for the payment, what mines of gold in rent and taxes,
in shameless cheating of rapacious tradesmen, extorting four
times what the thing is worth, even if it ivas the things
which it is not; while for what we have to bear for the
sake of society, surely a volume might be filled with the
catalogue of our endurances. We buy our friends dear,
then ; but those who have ever tried the experiment of dis-
pensing with these expensive luxuries, will own that they
are worth the price we pay for them.
From the diary of Mr. Pinclibold we are enabled to
gather that the inn at the old town of Sens was one of the
very best at which he and his friend put up in the course
of their journey. It was here that, at the table d'hote at
which our friends dined on each day of their stay, the
attention of both gentlemen seems to have been attracted
by the unprecedented and astounding voracity of one of the
guests, whom Mr. Pinchbold speaks of as  the hungry
man.
The hungry man, according to Mr. Pinchbold, presented
in his personal appearance the most complete embodiment
of famine which can be conceived. Everything about him
was hollow; his eyes were sunk in deep hollow chasms, his
cheeks had disappeared into the hollows formed by the
malar bones above them, his temples were hollow, his
stomach as he sat at table was hollow—nay, his very clothes
seemed to partake of this same characteristic, for his shrunk
neck was set into the collar of his coat (which came in
direct contact with it) as in some dark cavern, and his
THE HUNGRY MAN.
281
wrists emerged from a great dark tubular sleeve that was
more hollow than all.
There never was anything so terrific to behold as this
man's appetite, nor ever anything more disconcerting: than
to see how little good his nutriment did him. The hungry
man, too, had no enjoyment of his food; he was never
occupied with the morsel on his plate, but always with the
dish which was to follow next in order. His gaze was
fixed firmly and devouringly upon this dish, whatever it
might be, as it reposed in its place upon the table, and when
it was removed to be carved and handed round, his eyes
still pursued it to the side-table, and during its subsequent
circuit, with frenzy in their aspect. Indeed, it was such
evident anguish to him to see the contents of the dish
diminishing sensibly as it slowly approached his part of the
table, that we have reason to believe that the humane Mr.
Pinchbold declined to partake of certain dishes of which the
allowance seemed rather slender, out of a wish to save the
hungry man from a serious crisis.
The hungry man was no new arrival at the inn at Sens.
Indeed, to judge by the regularity with which he occupied
the same place every day, and by the fact that his napkin
was brought to him passed through a ring of his own, one
would gather that he was a boarder at the inn as far as his
meals were concerned, as was the case with several more of
those who sat at table. All these persons were up to him,
and would exchange winks and significant gestures as he
took his place at table and pinned his napkin up under his
chin. The ancien militaire retired, and having some
municipal appointment—to whom by courtesy the head of
the table was assigned—the commercial gentleman, who
visited the town in his rounds so regularly that he was
known to every one at table, the editor of the local paper,
and the resident artist, all appeared to understand the
peculiar humour of the hungry man, and would sometimes
exercise their own wit at his expense—the artist especially
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
executing the most hideous caricatures of this gaunt and
"voracious personage, and passing them to his friends to look
at under the table-cloth.
 Give me some bread, the hungry man would, cry to the
waiter.
 Give some to me, I entreat, before you take it to
Monsieur Loupard, the ancien militaire would interpose;
■ for, he would add to a neighbour,  there will be no chance
afterwards.
 Hold, waiter! the artist shouts, seeing a waiter
about to hand a dish to the hungry man before, as in its
usual course, it had made the round of the table— hold;
you are beginning at the wrong end ; that civet de lievre
will come to an untimely fate. Bah! there is absolutely
some left! he continues, as the dish is brought to him
after the hungry man has made his attack upon it.
 Terrible times these, remarks the editor to a friend at
the other end of the table, and keeping his eye on the
famished Monsieur Loupard as he speaks;  I am told that
in consequence of the bad harvest and the dearness of corn,
the landlords of inns are going to charge extra for every
piece of bread after the first half-dozen consumed by their
pensionnaires.
 I have only had five pieces, at any rate, mutters the
hungry man.
 The table-d'hotes are to be served, says the commercial
gentleman, humouring the joke,  with quarter rations.
 Then let us hope they will charge but a quarter of the
price, says the hungry man,  and then M. le Militaire can
go to four in the day.
At this there is a general roar.
 Some bread, cries the hungry man, as if it was a new
idea.
"You will be charged extra, cries the artist;  it is the
thirteenth piece.
' It is not true, savs the hungry man.
THE HUNGRY MAN-.
28S
 Search his pockets, suggests die artist,  for pieces of
"bread of to-day's baking,
 Search the pockets of Monsieur Pencil, retorts the
hungry man,  for orders for portraits ; you will not find
many.
Here there is another roar, and the hungry man takes
flie opportunity to seize a dish which has not yet made the
round of the table, but which had been imprudently put
within his reach.
 Stop! cries the commercial gentleman;  an infringe-
ment of all rules of the table.
 A blow struck at all social restraints, says another.
"What has become of etiquette ? shouts the artist.
 What has become of the dish ? shrieks another.
 Take it away from him !
 Bring another dish !
 The hateful proceeding !
 The lawless depredator !
 Gentlemen, interposed the hungry man,  I call you
all to observe that I thought the dish had already made the
round of the table, and been refused by all.
 Oh, yes 1
 A probable view of the matter, isn't it ?
This fierce badinage at the expense of the hungry man
would last through a whole meal, the force of the storm
rising, falling, and reviving again, as each new demand gave
a new stimulant to the fury of this famished individual's
assailants. And yet at the end of it all, and when the last
available morsel of dessert had been secured, the hungry
man would rise, and bowing all round the table, would
make his exit with the same words with which he had sat
down—
 Gentlemen all, I salute you!
So much for the hungry man. For the other charac-
teristics of the inn at Sens, we find that Mr. Pinchbold
derives excessive comfort from the fact that his bedroom is
284
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
situated over the salle-a-manger, and that the bell which
the cook rings when dinner is ready is so near his window,
that he could himself ring it with ease  in case anything
should happen. His room faced the street, he adds (con-
tinuing his usual mysterious description of his bedchamber),
and is distinguished by a new arrangement of curtains for
the bed, they being passed through an enormous mahogany
ring, which is fastened into the ceiling, and concerning which
Mr. Pinchbold seems to have some strange apprehension
that it may turn out to be an engine of destruction.
As to the government of the inn, it appears to be chiefly,
as usual, in the hands of the landlady, whom Mr. Pinch-
bold describes as young, neatly-dressed, and bustling, and
not wholly destitute of an eye to the main chance. The
husband is young also, but a person of no sort of im-
portance in the house. A hard-worked girl appears to do
all the work of the house, and to be excluded from all the
meals of which the other domestics partake, when the
guests have finished, in the salle-a-manger. There is a
young gar^on, wholly devoid of character, a reticent but
capable ostler, and one more personage in connexion with
the stable department who would appear to have made a
powerful impression on Mr. Pinchbold's nerves.
This individual was nothing more than a hanger-on or
helper about the stable, but his appearance was of so for-
midable a nature, and especially under the circumstances
which attended Mr. Pinchbold's meeting with him, that a
certain amount of panic on that gentleman's part may
almost be considered as having been excusable.
It was on the evening when our travellers first arrived
at Sens, that our esteemed friend had, in the absence of his
usual companion, Mr. Fudge, (who had gone to the post-
office with a letter,) bethought him of beguiling the time
by paying a visit to Blinkers. Accompanied then by
Mazard only, Mr. Pinchbold proceeded, lantern in hand, to
the stable, and found his way to the stall in which Blinkers
was enjoying an occasional nibble at such little heads of
THE SPECTEAL GEOOM.
285
clover as were scattered among the hay in his manger, the
little rascal playing with these after his regular meal, much
as humanity does with a nut or a wine biscuit. It was
just as Blinkers nearly pushed Mr. Pinchbold down by a
sudden turn of his neck, on which our Englishman was
leaning his elbow, and just as Mr. P. was remarking to
himself, how fearful was the amount of power concentrated
in the body of a horse, that a violent barking on the part of
Mazard caused him to turn round, and look towards the
stable door. There, in the full blaze of Mr. Pinchbold's
lantern, and relieved additionally by the intense darkness
behind him, stood one of the most terrific beings that the
retina of this gentleman's eyes had ever reflected. This
apparition, for such it seemed at first to be, was dressed in
a white blouse, which garment, as well as the scant trousers,
were full of rents and covered with patches. On its
gigantic feet were a pair of equally gigantic sabots, and in
its right hand was a terrific pitchfork, with long and glitter-
ing points of the most formidable description. The coun-
tenance of this spectral figure was in strict keeping with all
the rest, its leading features being an immense hooked nose,
and a pair of wild and staring eyes, which were fixed with
terrific earnestness on Mr. Pinchbold, while a beard, of
alternate black and white locks, of the mangiest descrip-
tion, made all the rest seem doubly horrible.
 Wh—wh—who—are you? stammered Mr. Pinch-
bold as soon as any articulate sounds would come to his aid.
Mr. Pinchbold spoke in the French tongue, so that the
above sentence ought by rights to have been rendered,
 Qu' qu' qui etes-vous ? but the fact is that the writer of
these pages has a keen detestation of morsels of French in
English books, and invariably suppresses such snatches of
dialogue as much as possible.
Unexceptionable, however, as Mr. Pinchbold's French
was in the present case, it seemed to have little effect on
him to whom his question was addressed. The Spectre of
the Stables made no reply, unless a slow and solemn nod of
286
A. CITUTSE trfON TTHEBIS.
the head cmild'be construed into one. The effect of this
proceeding was so terrific that Mr. Pinchbold was really
unable to stand it, and commenced a very unmistakeable
movement, in a curved line, however, towards the door.
As Mr. Pinchbold continued his retreat, the Spectre slowly
revolved so as to keep him within its range of vision, till at
last, our terror-striclcen Englishman finding that step by
step he had accomplished the circuit of the stable, and that
the door was behind him, fairly turned tail, and rushing
out of the building, fled across the stable-yard as hard ate.
his legs would carry him, Mazard, who had been barking
furiously all the while, keeping, like a faithful ally, in his
master's rear, to protect his retreat.
From this time, the Spectre of the Stables—who turned
out to be a deaf and dumb man, who acted as a sort of
assistant groom, and was a harmless fellow enough—seemed
perfectly to haunt Mr. Pinchbold's steps; go where he
would, within the walls of the inn itself, or outside in the
town, he was always meeting this man, and this man's eyes
were always fixed in the same terrible manlier on Mb.
Pinchbold. At last Mr. Pinchbold went the length of in-
forming Mr. Fudge of what he suffered from the continual
presence of this alarming being. He announced formally
that now he felt that his doom was really sealed, that he
was sure this man would conspire with some other ruffians,
and would 'waylay them on their route when they left Sens
for Joigny.
 We must do what we ought to have done long ago,
said Pinchbold. "We must purchase a pistol.
It was in vain that Mr. Fudge tried to dissuade his friend
from this, as he termed it, useless expenditure, Mr. Pinch-
bold was determined on the subject, and the pistol was
bought; the Spectre looking through the windows of the
gunsmith's shop while "our Englishmen were engaged in
making the purchase, and saluting Mr. Pinchbold with a
hideous grin as he came out of the shop.
Outside the town of Sens, there is a fine grove of elms,
TH35 'COMMERCIAL RECLUSE.
287.
which, extending for some distance, shades the public
promenade, a sort of Boulevard leading down to the Yonne,
At the bottom of this Boulevard, and close to the bank of
the river, there is a little lane, at the corner of which the
mysterious announcement  Tir de pistolet, proclaims,
that at the bottom of this little alley there is a gallery for
pistol practice. The next thing to do, after buying the
pistol, was, naturally, to try it, so our two friends, having
observed the notification in question, determined to proceed
at once in search of the shooting-gallery.
Guided by a hand painted on the wall, and pointing
towards a certain gateway not far down the lane, Mr. Fudge
and his friend walked boldly up to this portal, and looking
in and finding nothing to impede their progress, entered
without ceremony a green, old fashioned looking garden,
with a fountain, a pair of painted wooden figures—a shepherd
and shepherdess—»and all sorts of other queer decorations,
which made the place look none the less attractive that
they were all tumbling to pieces, and in concert with the
tangled and neglected look of the beds and paths with
which the garden itself was interspersed. Pursuing one of
these paths, which Mr. Fudge and his companion took at
hazard, thinking it might lead to the  Tir, our two
Englishmen found themselves, after walking about half a
dozen yards, in a little tangled thicket, and presently,
without the least preparation, with their very noses in
contact with the window of a little summer-house.
It seems incredible, it appears useless to relate so appa-
rently outrageous a thing, but it is a fact, that in this
summer house, remote from any other building, situated in
the very heart of a neglected and deserted garden, whose
very gates were not thought worth closing, and to which
public attention was directed' as a spot dedicated to pistol
practice—in the summer-house, we say, a brisk, conven-
tional, and middle-aged man of business was sitting at a
desk working at accounts, and surrounded on all sides with
ledgers and calf-bound account books, in which lie was
288
A CRUISE UPON "WHEELS.
deeply immersed. He was not so immersed, however, but
that he took notice of the arrival of our two friends, and
springing off his stool, and coming at once to the door of
this marvellous office, said, without a moment's preparation:
 It is not here.
 What is not here ? inquired Mr. Fudge, whose breath
was taken away with surprise at finding a man engaged in
book-keeping in this lonely spot.
 It is next door, said the accountant.
 What is next door ? inquired Mr. Fudge.
 That answered the accountant, first tapping the
mahogany box containing the pistol and ammunition, which
Mr. Pinchbold held in his hand, and then laying his finger
on his nose.  The shooting-gallery is next door.
 Thank you, said Mr. Fudge, politely ;  we are most
distressed to have disturbed you.
 I am used to it, said the accountant.
"We have disturbed you at your accounts.
 I am used to it.
 You see, continued Mr. Fudge,  the gate of your—
he hesitated whether to say garden or place of business,
 the gate was open.
 It is always open, said the accountant.
By this time, as they had been walking towards the
entrance of the garden, they had arrived at the  gate that
was always open.
The accountant again laid the forefinger of his right hand
on his nose, and with the same finger of his left hand
pointed down the lane to a little wicket-gate a few paces off.
 It is there, said the accountant.
Mr. Fudge and his companion expressed their gratitude
and their regrets once more, and the accountant watched
them as they went up to the wicket-gate.
It was locked, and after ringing a cracked bell two or
three times and getting no answer, the two Englishmen
looked round to the place where they had left the accountant.
He was not to be seen, but at this moment there burst
THE COMMERCIAL RECLUSE.
forth, apparently from the garden they had just left, a long',
discordant blast, emanating from some brazen instrument,
and awakening the echoes far and near.
 Let us go, said Mr. Pinchbold; "this is very horrible.'*'
It was. An accountant keeping books in a solitary'
summer-house, in a deserted garden, continually in the'
habit of directing strangers to a shooting-gallery, whichl
was shut up, and then retiring to his solitude and refresh-
ing himself with a series of discordant blasts through a
French horn—this was surely altogether a state of things#
which no one could be expected to regard as wholly
satisfactory.
By the time that our two friends had walked out of ear--
shot of the sounds uttered by the musical accountant,
which was not soon done, the hour had arrived when it was
necessary to think of starting for the fete, which, it will be'
remembered, our travellers had determined to attend. So,
a snack in the shape of a  bifteck aux pommes having
been disposed of, and Mazard having been tied up in the'
stable and left in intimate conversation with Blinkers, the'
two friends set off at about four o'clock in the afternoon.
290
CHAPTER XVII.
the reader hears how mr. fudge and mr. pinchbold went
to the fete at sens; also how both gentlemen (but mr.
pinchbold especially) enjoyed themselves on the occa-
sion.
The fete, a portion of whose programme was given in the
last chapter but one, was to take place not in the town of
Sens itself, but in a small village at a little distance from it.
Our two Englishmen started with rather vague ideas as to
where this village lay, but they trusted to the chance of
finding other persons bound in the same direction, whom
it would be possible for them to follow; and, indeed,
having once got out of the town, they had little difficulty in
ascertaining what course they were to take, there being not
only a tolerable show of pedestrians all moving in one
direction, but also a procession of covered carts going the
same way, and filled with young boys and girls, in such a
condition of animal spirits as indicated that there was some
fun in prospect.
Let no one suppose that these pleasure-seekers, however,
presented the appearance generally of persons about to
amuse themselves. Still less, let any one imagine that they
were rendered interesting by any picturesqueness of cos-
tume. It is rapidly becoming established as a certain
thing that the lower classes throughout the world have
agreed—as far as the men are concerned at any rate—on
the adoption of a universal costume to be worn as often as
the exigencies of their professional life shall permit. A
black frock-coat, a black waistcoat, black trousers, and a
THE E£:TE.
291
black bat of tbe chimney-pot make, being the vestments
which they have decided upon as the most beautiful and
agreeable that the mind of man can devise. Go where one
will, this horrid combination of garments meets one's eye,
whenever the occasion is a holiday one, and will admit of
the removal of the everyday working attire.
The style of dress we have described seemed hugely
popular among that portion of the workpeople of Sens
which had determined to make holiday on this particular
•afternoon and repair to the fete. Nor was it confined to
the grown men—httle atoms of boys, ten or twelve years
old, were dressed tightly up in this manner, and with
their curly-brimmed hats and white neckcloths, looked
like miniature editions of dissenting clergymen who were
on their way to the fete, with a view of improving the
occasion.
True to their plan of following the rest, Mr. Fudge and
his friend turned off when they had got a httle way out of
the town, into a by-way that led across some fields, and
coming presently to a canal they turned up, and proceeding
some way along its banks were greeted at length by certain
braying sounds which seemed to indicate that they were
near the scene of action; a cracked horn being always,
from time immemorial, a thing connected with, and insepa-
rable from, anything in the shape of a festival—native or
foreign.
The fete did not seem to promise much at first sight.
There were two or three httle dwarfish houses with what
we in this country call tea-gardens at the back of them, in
which flagstaff's had been erected for the occasion, for the
display of the simple banner of France. Round these
httle tea-gardens, each of which had a sort of smah
bowling-green in the middle of it, were small wintry-look-
ing arbours, in which groups of festive ones were seated
partaking of what is the inevitable dish on these occasions,
a great sheet of hard pie-crust thinly spread with a pre-
serve of prunes, a composition which was washed down
u 2
292
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
with draughts of a liquid called  grogs de vin, a mixture
of wine, Avater, lemon-peel and sugar, served to each little
group in a Avhite washing-basin, from which they ladled it
out as best they might.
To sit in these small arbours, to pass from one of these
inclosures or tea-gardens to another, to cross and recross
the bridge over the canal, appeared, as far as our tAvo
friends could make out, to be the principal if not the only
amusements indulged in by the frequenters of this fete.
The last of these proceedings seemed more especially
popular. In due time it was rumoured that there was a
boat upon the river rowed by four amateurs. The excite-
ment upon this became frantic, and one gentleman actually
cut several capers as he ran off to see the sight, exclaiming
to those about him,  II faut s'amuser. After the boat
had passed, a gentleman on horseback obligingly rode on to
the bridge, made his horse, by means of a pair of spurs
and a tight curb, perform various ungainly antics, and rode
off again, after creating an immense sensation. Then there
was a quarrel. Two men having managed to get drunk
upon the  grogs de vin, fell into a clamorous dispute on
some question of property, tumbled down a flight of steps,
were addressed by a pacificator, who informed them that
the  moment was inopportune for business, were con-
vinced, shed tears, and embraced to the delight of all
beholders. After this there Avas a lull, and Messrs. Fudge
and Pinchbold observing that a considerable portion of the
public was taking a walk in one particular direction, turned
their footsteps that way also, intending to return by-and-by
and see hoAV the fete got on by candlelight, and how far
the word of promise was kept in the matter of  whirl-
winds and "pots of stars, by the authorities connected
Avith the fireAvork department.
Our two friends walked for some distance along a pretty
green lane, rather surprised to find that they Avere sur-
rounded by so large a company of persons as appeared to
be going in the same direction. By-and-by, to their still
THE F&TE.
greater surprise, a dim sound of trumpeting, and even of
occasional drumming, broke upon their ears, coming from
a direction exactly opposite to that which they had just
left. Presently, high up among some distant trees, appeared
a flag, waving in the evening breeze, and presently another,
and another.
Suspicion began now to dawn upon Mr. Fudge and his
friend that they had been the victims of a delusion in
imagining that the scene they had just left was the
locality of the fete, and that they were only now drawing
near the regions of enchantment and delight, of which the
programme had spoken.
The suspicions of our two Englishmen were not long in
being confirmed. A few more steps brought them to a
small trellised gateway, ornamented, as the evening was
now closing in, with six coloured lamps, and with the
modest title of  The Garden of Bliss inscribed above it.
The crowd about this spot, and farther on, where there was
a booth containing a merry-go-round, and one or two
shows, was quite a large one; and, further yet, where a
larger trellised gateway than that conducting to the Garden
of Bliss, shone resplendent with a round dozen of lamps,
.and proclaimed itself the  Elysium ! the crowd was at its
acme, and the excitement at its highest.
It was towards this point that our two friends bent their
steps by degrees. It is true that they paused for a time to
wonder—as Englishmen always must—at the extraordinary
popularity of that most wonderful amusement which consists
in sitting on the back of a child's wooden horse, about two
feet from stem to stern, and revolving round a small tent
to the sound of a dismal barrel-organ. Ferocious-looking
giants with beards engage in this performance with the
most unmoved gravity and solemnness, and stickling as
much for every minute of the time allotted to them for
their sous, as the smallest boy engaged in this exalted
amusement. Mothers of families, babies in arms, veteran
soldiers, and lovers, are all to be found going slowly round
294
A CRUISE UtON WHEELS.
on these wooden horses. There is nothing in the whole
machinery of pleasure provided at these fetes, or even at
the fairs, which lasts longer, which draws so certainly as
the  round-about, or, as it is ambitiously styled, the
 manegeand so little does this diversion pall upon the
mind, or lose of its zest, through frequent enjoyment, that
when the manege is located for some weeks at one place,
the same public may be relied on, night after night, to
return to the charge, and revolve every evening to the same
tunes as long as they have the chance.
Different people have doubtless different ideas on the
subject of Elysium ; but certainly the views of those who
had conferred this title on the garden into which Mr. Fudge
and his friend now entered, must have been of a pre-emi-
nently remarkable kind. A dreary wilderness, with
neglected walks, and arbours out of repair, it looked more
an Elysium for toads than any other portion of the com-
munity, and was, indeed, largely frequented by those
animals. There is but one thing that can render a neglected
place at all tolerable, and that is size : but when a place is
very small, and as untidy as if it had the proportions of the
Great Desert; when the woodwork of every little summer-
house hangs in broken fragments; when the paths that lead
from one tangled mass of rank verdure to another are
neither of gravel nor of turf, but of black and sodden earth,
with those little curly lumps upon its surface which are
usually attributed to the machinations of the worm tribe,
and which are in themselves calculated to dash the highest
spirits; when all these things are found together, the result
is pretty sure to be of the ghastliest description.
In a sort of enclosure which occupied the very centre of
this dreary thicket, an open space between the rows of
trees was set apart for dancing ; and as the plot of ground
was tolerably large, and lighted by two moderator lamps
suspended from the trees, and further by the four tallow
candles which illuminated the orchestra, the effect, it may
THE FfrrE.
295
be imagined, was gay almost to a fault. The music outside
the Elysium, too, combining with that within it, made it
no easy matter for the dancers to regulate their steps;
which was, perhaps, the reason why every figure of the
quadrilles had to be done over twice, in order to get it
right; and may have been also the reason why Mr. Pinch-
bold, suddenly, to all appearance, taking leave of his senses,
announced his fixed intention of performing a polka.
Our scene being laid in France, it is almost unnecessary
to say that there was no great wealth of beauty among the
young ladies who were assisting at the fete. There was,
however, one girl, in the costume of a peasant, with a very
pretty white cap, who might have been considered, perhaps,
to have some pretensions to good looks; at all events, she
had more claim in this way than any of the companions by
•whom she was surrounded, and carried her head rather
high in consequence. It was upon this young person that
the designing Pinchbold had resolved to exercise his fasci-
nation; and it was while she was standing, at the conclusion
of a dance, that he now, having communicated his intention
to Mr. Fudge, advanced towards her with something of the
air with which the wicked Counts in melodramas make
similarly insidious approaches to the village maidens.
The village maiden would, however, in this case, have
nothing to say to the wicked Count; and Mr. Pinchbold
had not only the intense discomfiture of being refused as a
partner, but also the additional mortification of finding this
refusal accompanied by a prolonged attack of giggling on
the part of the young lady to whom he had made his
advances.
There is much more similarity both in places and per-
sonages all over the civilized world than people imagine.
This fete was really very little different from an affair of
the same kind held at the Rye House, or at Hornsey Wood;
the Elysium was very like a tea-garden; and the giggling
refusal of this young lady vras very much like the giggling
£96
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
..refusal which Mr. Pinchbold would probably have met with
had he made similar advances to a person similarly situated
in his own country.
The maiden whose discourteous reception of Mr. Pinch-
hold's proposal has just been recorded, was standing, at the
moment of that gentleman's approach, among a group of
companions; and Mr. Pinchbold's despair at the refusal he
had been subjected to was much augmented by the unre-
.strained hilarity with which his rejection was observed by
.this rather large audience. It has been remarked by the
sage Spaniard who compiled the history of Don Quixote,
that  when one door is shut another is opened; and a
striking instance of the truth of this proverb occurred now
hi the case of Mr. Pinchbold. Among the village maidens
who, it has been stated, were standing round the object of
our Englishman's suit, was one young personage who at
.once took upon her to repair the deep injury done by her
friend to the amiable Mr. Pinchbold.
 What, she said, u you wont dance with the little
Englishman ?—then I will.
Mr. Pinchbold looked hastily round on hearing these
words, and found that they came from the lips of one of
the very largest young women it had ever been his luck to
meet with. She stood at least five inches taller than him-
self, and was something more than proportionately stout.
In fact, in a country where the conscription exists in such
force as in France, it did some credit to the gallantry of the
military authorities that  La Petite, as she was ironically
Styled among her comrades, had never been drawn for a
grenadier. It must be mentioned that the countenance of La
Petite beamed with amiability and good-humour.
 I will dance with him, said La Petite.
Mr. Pinchbold was one of the most innately polite beings
that ever existed. Plis admiration and respect for that
weaker portion of the creation which La Petite so ably re-
presented were deep -and unfeigned. So he pulled off his
•cap, made a low bow, and yielding himself up at once to'
LA PETITE.
297
the happy destiny which awaited him, led off his fair
partner, amidst a perfect hurricane of laughter on the part of
that young lady's companions.
If our excellent and susceptible friend had been anxious
for an opportunity of indulging in the amusement of dancing,
he was certainly now enabled to enjoy that diversion to his
heart's content, and perhaps even a trifle or so more. The
muscular resources of La Petite did not belie what her
appearance suggested, and, as the floor of the Elysium con-
sisted of nothing more slippery than damp earth, and as
the dance for which Mr. Pinchbold had been so fortunate
as to secure a partner was a polka, the exertion
which that gentleman went through in his effort to
keep pace Avith his interesting companion, Avas some-
thing more than he had bargained for. The worst of
it was, too, that our unhappy friend, who had lost his Avind
at an early stage in the proceedings, could never get a chance
of recovering that valuable commodity, but was hurried
round and round the enclosure which was reserved for the
dancers, till the trees which hemmed it in appeared, to his
bewildered eyesight, to be dancing more madly than himself,
and the tAvo moderator lamps, and the four tallow candles,
revolved and pirouetted about, as if in anticipation of the
 whirlwinds and pots of stars, which were promised at the
conclusion of the evening's entertainment.
With the lights, then, and the trees all dancing before
his eyes, with his respiration so completely gone, that he
could not even make an attempt to catch it again, with
perspiration streaming from every pore, Avith a palpitating
heart, and with a sensation as if his lower extremities must
shortly burst, Mr. Pinchbold was still dragged round and
round that horrid enclosure, which he noAV deA-outly Avished
he had never entered. As for any moments of cessation or
rest, the thing Avas out of the question. If he considerately
remarked that he was sure his partner must Avant to leave
off and repose herself, he was at once informed, in the most
unmistakeable manner, that La Petite Avas not in the least
298
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
tired; while, whenever he attempted to abandon the now
detested exercise in which he was engaged, even for a
moment, he was asked in the most innocent manner in the
world  why he did not go on ?
At length when things had reached such a Climax of
despair that our distressed Englishman was thinking, with
such fragments of his mind as still hung together, whether
it would be possible for him to tumble down and so get out
of his partner's clutches, or whether she had him by too
firm a grip for that means of escape to be possible—at this
moment, we say, the dance was brought to an unexpected
termination by no less serious an interruption than the
sudden disappearance of the chief of the four musicians who
formed the orchestra, a phenomenon which was entirely
attributable to the extreme vivacity with which this gen-
tleman  conducted; the violence of his gesticulations, and
the corpulence of his person, proving too much for the
somewhat frail scaffolding on wThich the chair of the chef-
d'orchestre was perched. Never was any one, of so humane
a temper as Mr. Pinchbold, so glad of a disaster seriously
affecting the safety of a fellow-creature—for the chef had
received a severe contusion of the elbow—never was any
similarly amiable individual so glad of such a mischance as
was our exhausted and bewildered friend.
If Mr. Pinchbold had formed any idea in his own mind
that the conclusion of the dance in which he had just been
engaged would be the signal for the expiration of the lease—
if we may so speak—which bound him to his partner, he
was singularly and utterly mistaken. It was evident, that
in the eyes of La Petite to be once a partner was to be always
a partner, and that she was no friend to that inconstancy
Avhich is, alas, too common in polite circles, and which
distributes a gentleman's attentions among a score of young
ladies in the course of as many dances. La Petite kept a
firm hold on Mr. Pinchbold's arm, and walked him round
and round the enclosure in burning anticipation of that
happy moment when the band should once more strike
LA PETITE.
299
up and give the signal for the commencement of a quad-
rille.
 At any rate, thought Mr. Pinchbold, "it is a quadrille,:
and so I shall not have to exert myself.
The orchestra struck up at this moment—and a very
queer orchestra it was. The chief, either really injured in
that sensitive part of the human anatomy, the elbow, or
pretending to be so, in indignant protest against the care-
lessness which had caused so frail a scaffold to be erected
for so important an artist, declined to have anything more
to do with the affair, and left the musical arrangement in the
hands of his subordinates, and as these were only three in
number, and consisted of a violoncello who only knew the
bass parts, a trombone who only came in at rare intervals
and a triangle, the effect, it may be imagined, was somewhat
peculiar, to say the least of it.
Mr. Pinchbold had, however, little leisure for paying
attention to such small matters as these. He soon found
that he had reckoned without his host in thinking that he
was going to enjoy a period of repose during the performance
of the dance in which he was now engaged. He was not
long in ascertaining that the notion of a quadrille in pro-
vincial Prance is somewhat different from that entertained
of the same dance among the frequenters of our London
drawing-rooms. To walk more languidly than usual, with
a countenance expressive of exceeding weariness, and with
the eyebrows slightly raised, is the idea which is received
into most minds of the proper mode of going through the
manoeuvres of a quadrille. But such was not the conception
of the part among the company met together in the Elysium
of Sens, and so Mr. Pinchbold soon found to his cost. The
very first movements of those engaged in the quadrille in
which Mr. Pinchbold and his partner were performing
were, to our Englishman, matter of intense and bewildering
astonishment. Not only did he find himself at fault in not
being able to compete with the extraordinary feats of agility
of which he was the witness, but even the figures of which
300
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
the dance was composed appeared to him to be altogether
altered from anything to which he was accustomed. Whether
this impression arose from the mysterious manner in which
the other members of the quadrille continued to twist and
twirl themselves about in the performance of their parts, or
from the diseased state of our gentleman's brain, produced
by his recent sufferings in the polka, he was himself unable
to decide, but certain it is that he was utterly and entirely
at fault, and was occasionally so completely paralyzed as to
draw down upon himself some tolerably sharp reproofs from
his partner, and from others in whose way he was unfor-
tunate enough to get.
The fact is, that Mr. Pinchbold was, unluckily, in the
very quadrille of all others where he was most out of place.
All the other members of it seemed to be on intimate terms
with each other, and all had made of dancing in general,
and of quadrille dancing in particular, something more than
a study. As ill-luck would arrange it, too, the couple
exactly opposite to Mr. Pinchbold and La Petite, were
the most exact and punctilious performers of every step,
and every obsolete rite and ceremony connected with
quadrille practice, in the garden. They were neither of
them what can be called country people, the young man
being evidently some small clerk or shopman in the town,
and his partner also from the town, and a cockney-looking
wench enough into the bargain. It was the force of that
young man's capers, the intricacy of his  cutting, the
humming-top prolongation of his pirouettes, that daunted
and dismayed our Englishman more than all the rest.
There was something about the way in which that young
man spun himself—if we may continue the image of the
top—through a figure, which might well daunt a more
adventurous spirit than Mr. Pinchbold's. Nor was it only
in revolution round his own axis that he thus distinguished
himself. The leaps and springs into the air accomplished
by that young man, the frantic war-dances executed in his
place, at moments when there were no demands upon him
LA PETITE.
301
at all, were quite as remarkable parts of his quadrille
dancing, as even the marvellous pirouettes of which mention
has already been made.
Now nothing—not even the admiration of his own
partner—could exceed the strong feeling of approbation
which the performances of this resilient youth excited in the
bosom of La Petite. This was evidently her idea of the
way to dance a quadrille, and if so, what wonder that an
occasional stimulant was applied to our worthy friend in
the shape of an inquiry why he did not dance ? or (when-
ever .he attempted to do so) what was the reason that hp
was continually getting into everybody else's way ?
Of a speculative turn naturally, and an habitual observer
of human nature, Mr. Pinchbold was at no time, and under
no circumstances, a satisfactory quadrillist, and there is no
occasion on record of his standing up to dance, and not in
the course of the quadrille requiring a reminder that he
was neglecting to set to corners, or to cross over, or in some
other way failing in one of those arduous duties which
fall Jo the lot of him who has committed himself to go
through a quadrille. If this absence of mind was a charac-
teristic of our Englishman even when engaged in what is
aggravatingly called the first set—as if there was any
second set—at a friend's house, it will readily be imagined
that in a scene so remarkable as that in Avliich he now
found himself, and with so many strange things soliciting
his attention, he was even more lost than usual. So much,
indeed, was this the case, that Mr. Pinchbold would some-
times, while engaged in staring at those persons who were
figuring in the quadrille behind him, find himself suddenly
seized round the throat, and dragged off backwards by his
fair partner, who having bounced through such portions
of the figure as she could perform alone, and being too
much out of breath to speak, would have recourse to this
summary mode of recalling her victim to a sense of his
duties.
All things considered, it is a grave question whether
302
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
Mr. Pinchbold in passing from the polka to the quadrille
might not be considered to have fallen out of a certain
useful cooking utensil into the flames on which it rests
when in action. As to repose, he had found none, while to
his bodily torments in the first dance were added, in the
second, the mental throes of one endeavouring to do his
best in a part, and who is looked upon by those with whom
he is associated in the light of an utter impostor.
The worst of it all was, however, that even now that
the quadrille was at last over, Mr. Pinchbold's partner
seemed in nowise disposed to let that gentleman go. It
might be that La Petite was doubtful as to the chances of
finding a substitute to supply his place, and was of opinion
that an inefficient partner is better than no partner at all;
or it might be that this excellent young person was philan-
thropically disposed towards our Englishman, and was
determined to do what she could towards supplying the
deficiencies in his education as a dancer. At all events,
she clung to him at the conclusion of the quadrille as
closely, if not more so, as at the termination of the polka,
and holding him tightly above the elbow as a British
policeman does a pickpocket, walked him round and round
the arena of his torments, with a satisfied and even a
triumphant air.
It has, perhaps, happened to some one among the readers
of this work to be circumstanced on some special occasion
in some degree as was the case with our unfortunate friend.
To have become the property of a young lady—generally
rather an old one—for a single dance, and to find at its con-
elusion that the tender creature is not to be got rid of.
Under these circumstances you become strangely and
almost affectionately solicitous for the young person's
comfort. She must be tired, you say, dreadfully tired—
you will find her a seat. No, she is not tired, she would
rather walk about. Would she not like an ice, you say,
conscious that you are not cutting much of a figure walking
round and round the room when almost everybody else is
LA PETITE.
303
sitting down. No, she will not have an ice ; or if she does,
she partakes of that refreshment with the arm that holds the
saucer still affectionately linked in your own. You become
desperate; you look round eagerly for her relations,
determined to cast her loose among them, come of it what
may; but she has no relatives, and is chaperoned by the
lady of the house. Finally you become brutal, and aban-
doning all sense of shame, you determine that you will
force her to accept the first vacant seat you come to, but by
this time all the seats are engaged, and you then look out
for a corner in which you can leave her as if she was an
umbrella. The corner is found, it is close to a marble-
hearted chimney-piece, emblem of your own cruel nature;
you deposit your burden there with a mixture of shame and
relief, and muttering something about being engaged for the
next dance, you hasten away, and rush out of the house in
which you have suffered so much.
Let no one suppose that the excellent Mr. Pinchbold was
a person capable of such conduct as this which has just been
alluded to. That courteous soul would as soon have
thought of picking a man's pocket as of acting with such
brutality. His deliverance, therefore, from his present em-
barrassing position appeared every moment more and more
hopeless. La Petite would not hear of sitting down, and
though she would and did hear of some refreshment in the
shape of a  grogs de vin, she partook of this beverage
without relaxing her hold on the arm of Mr. Pinchbold, and
her vigour and elasticity of step were redoubled after having
swallowed it.
The situation was becoming terrific. Mr. Pinchbold was
desperate. He looked helplessly around him in search of
his friend Mr. Fudge, with a vague idea that it might be
within the range of that gentleman's abilities' to assist him
in his present difficulty. The strains of a valse were just
beginning to enunciate themselves through the medium of
the impaired orchestra, when Mr. Pinchbold beheld his
friend coming towards him.
304
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
Mr. Fudge, while his companion was amusing himself in
the manner we have indicated, had taken the opportunity
of cutting himself off temporarily from the delights of the
Elysium, and had been taking a walk outside in order to
obtain a view of the fete in all its developments. He had
lost sight of his friend at the moment when he announced
his intention of joining the dancers, and concluding that,
engaged in such joyous pastimes, Mr. Pinchbold had little
need of his companionship, he had wandered forth and had
been prowling about among the shows, inspecting the wares
of the Cheap Johns, and watching for the hundredth time
what was going on in the manege. Mr. Fudge had, then,
little idea of all that his friend was enduring, and his
bewilderment may be imagined when he now at length
caught sight of him in the custody of La Petite.
 Good heavens! Pinchbold, exclaimed Mr. Fudge, as
his friend got within speaking distance ;  why, what in
the world have you got hold of there ?
The tone of this remark was not flattering to Mr. Pinch-
hold's vanity, and though a moment before he had been on
the point of appealing to his friend for succour, he was so
piqued at Mr. Fudge's way of addressing him that he was
lashed into a desperate determination to try and make the
best of it.
 What have I got hold of? Mr. Pinchbold echoed.  I
suppose I have got hold of a partner. I told you I was
going to dance.
"Dance! repeated Mr. Fudge, aghast. "Yes, but what
an enormous 
 Oh, yes, I know she's rather tall, replied Mr. Pinch-
bold;  but I hate a dumpy woman, and she is a magni-
ficent dancer.
The magnificent dancer at this moment interposed, and
breaking into this dialogue—which having been carried on
in the English language she, of course, could not understand
—required to know whether Mr. Pinchbold wasaAvare that the
music AAras playing a valse, and Avhen he was going to begin.
MR. PINCHBOLD'S DESPAIR.
305
Mr. Pinchbold might have been excused for any un-
certainty as to the nature of the tune with which the
orchestra was awakening the echoes. He did not, however,
attempt this line of defence.
"In one moment, he said; and then turning to Mr.
Fudge he continued, in a magnanimous and generous tone,
"You don't feel any desire for a dance yourself, do you?
I wouldn't mind resigning this valse.
 Oh, don't do that on my account, replied Mr. Fudge,
with a fervent self-denial which it was quite beautiful
to see.
 No, but t?o, said the other ;  let me introduce you.
Mr. Fudge reiterated his rejection of this tempting offer;
but Mr. Pinchbold, in the plenitude of his philanthropy,
was so extremely pressing, that there is no telling what
might have been the encl of this amicable contest if La
Petite had not suddenly cut it short by dragging her un-
fortunate partner off, and sweeping him into the vortex of
the valse with the resistless fury of a tornado.
Mr. Fudge stood for a short time watching the career of
his friend in utter amazement. Those persons who are
accustomed to the amusement of dancing will be aware that
one of the first requisites for the enj oyment of that pastime
is a floor characterized by some degree of smoothness, if not
of slipperiness; what would those connoisseurs, who turn
up their noses at a carpet, and are divided between the
merits of oak boards and stretched holland, what would they
say to a substance on which to disport themselves composed
of dampish clay, with a tolerable sprinkling of pebbles
scattered over its surface ? It was on such a  floor that
Mr. Pinchbold was now performing. To say that his
sufferings in the previous dances in which he had engaged
were surpassed by his present torments, would be to give
but an inadequate idea of what he was going through. As
our unhappy gentleman plunged, and staggered, and
floundered on, it was natural that the first impulse of his
friend Mr. Fudge should be to laugh; but as that gentle-
x
306
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
man continued to look, and observed that his comrade had
apparently lost all control over his limbs, and was rapidly
becoming black in the face, a profound sympathy was not
long in taking the place of that sense of the ludicrousness of
his friend's position, which had seized him at the beginning.
At last Mr. Pinchbolcl could bear it no longer ; catching
sight, in one detached moment of reason, of his friend,
standing by the side of the ring—it must be owned that
Mr. Fudge appeared to him to be upside down, to have
seventeen eyes and eight noses and a half—catching sight
of his friend, Mr. Pinchbold, regardless of consequences,,
made a mad grasp at him as he passed, and having thus
managed to arrest his course, he gasped out these broken
words:—
"If—you—don't—take her—ayay—I shall die !
 What is the matter ? inquired La Petite;  why don't
you go on ?
Mr. Fudge "was the most humane of individuals. He
saw that the moment had arrived when his friend must
be rescued. As for Mr. Pinchbold, he had now thrown off
all disguise.
 She—has been—sticking to me, he gasped,  all—the
evening. Save me !
 My friend, observed Mr. Fudge,  is a little tired:
will you accept me as a partner in his place ?
La Petite glanced hastily at Mr. Fudge. A new partner,,
of a stronger build than her recent one, and coming into
the arena fresh, was not to be despised. La Petite released
the arm of Mr. Pinchbold, and seized that of Mr. Fudge.
The following brief dialogue then took place between the
two friends:—
 I didn't know you could dance, said Mr. Pinchbold'.
 Nor can I, replied Mr. Fudge.
 What are you going to do, then ? inquired Mr. Pinch-
bold.
 Has she had anything to eat ? asked Mr. Fudge, in,
turn.
THE RESCUE.
307
"No.
 Has she any friends here ?
 Yes, a perfect troop.
 That's all right, said Mr. Fudge;  and you may
leave it to me. Only keep close by, and bear me out in
what I propose.
Mr. Fudge commenced his plan of attack at once.
 Suppose, he said, turning to La Petite, as she stood
beside him impatient for the start;  suppose, as this dance
will soon be over, we wait for the next, and, in the mean-
time, partake of a ' eroute' of plums and a ' grogs de vin ?'
La Petite hesitated for a moment. She was very fond of
dancing, but she had all the attachment of a Frenchwoman
to everything in the shape of pastry.
"You will invite any friends you like to share it, re-
marked the wily Mr. Fudge.
This was conclusive. A  croute, a  grogs de vin,
and the opportunity of patronizing the companions who-
had laughed at her original choice of a partner, all these
things combined were too much for her. Besides, there
would be plenty of time to dance afterwards. She accepted
Mr. Fudge's invitation as cordially as it was offered.
It was by no means a difficult task to persuade the
friends of La Petite to join in the proposed meal. The
original object of Mr. Pinchbold's suit (towards whom, that
gentleman now behaved with haughty indifference) formed,
of course, one of v the party; and so did the gentleman
whose performances in quadrille-dancing have been already
alluded to in these pages as of so agile a nature.
 Well, remarked Mr. Fudge to his friend, as they
moved towards one of the arbours,  we shall let her down
gently this way, and get off with flying colours.
 But how get off? asked Mr. Pinchbold ;  there will
be more dancing afterwards, and La Petite will stick to one
of us, depend upon it.
 No, she wont, if you only do as I tell you, replied
Mr. Fudge, hurriedly;  take a seat next the outside of
x 2
SOS A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
the arbour, and when I make a sign to you, slip quietly
away; depend on it, I shall not be long in joining you.
All this time Mr. Fudge was looking about for a box, in
which his guests could be accommodated. At last he
seemed to be satisfied ; and the  croute and the basin of
 grogs were ordered to be brought immediately. The
arbour selected by Mr. Fudge was a very dark one, and
Tather dilapidated, the back of the seat being in one place
broken quite away, so that it was possible to step through
the gap into the path which ran behind the edifice. It was
next to this gap, in the very centre of the box, that Mr.
Fudge placed himself.
The plan answered to perfection. The company flung
themselves with such energy into the consumption of the
croute and the  grogs de vin, that successors to the
first representatives of these institutions had to be provided
in due time. "With all these elements of conviviality, the
party soon became a very noisy one. Songs, addresses, ahd
altercations became the order of the day; and by the time
that Mr. Fudge had ordered a glass of brandy all round,
the confusion was so great that that gentleman made a sign
to his companion, and having himself slipped out through
the gap behind him, and settled his account with the
gargon, who was watching this noisy group rather un-
easily, the escape of the two friends seemed an accomplished
fact.
Unfortunately, however, it happened that just at the
bend of the path along which the flight of our two English-
men was to be conducted, there was a pile of basins, in
which previous grogs had been served to other members of
the company assembled in the Elysium, and which basins
had been collected in this spot by the waiter ready for
removal. Unfortunately, then, we say, it chanced that the
unlucky Mr. Pinchbold, encountering these basins in the
course of his flight, managed to bring not only the whole of
these vessels, but himself also, with a mighty crash to the
ground.
THE 1'LIGHT.
809
The noise caused by this catastrophe, and by the uncon-
trollable shouts of laughter which burst simultaneously
from the two friends, quickly caught the attention of the
guests whom our Englishmen had quitted so unceremo-
niously, and the whole party rushed out of the arbour in
pursuit of the fugitives.
The fugitives, however, were too quick for them. Mr.
Pinchbold had picked himself up from among the basins in
no time, and the two gentlemen, dashing down a perfect
labyrinth of paths, hit by chance on the right one—for
luck will turn if you only wait long enough—and were out
of the Elysium while their pursuers (whose indignation, it
must be owned, was much mitigated by the discovery that
the bill had been settled) were yet disputing in which direc-
tion the  two accursed Englishmen had gone. As for
La Petite, she was calmly consoling herself at table, and as
there was still a good allowance of punch left in the second
bowl, it is probable that her friends were not long in
returning to the arbour and following her example.
310
CHAPTER XVIII.
the travellers get on from sens to villeneuve, and from
villeneuve to joigny. an incident takes place which
calls forth an extraordinary display of character on
the part of mr. pinchbold.
"And we never saw the fireworks, after all, said Mr.
Pinchbold, as he and his fellow-traveller were sitting at
breakfast the next morning.
Mr. Fudge comforted his friend under this misfortune
by expressing his conviction, grounded on a long expe-
rience, that the fireworks which they had not seen were
most unquestionably precisely like all other displays of
pyrotechny. No doubt he was right. Whether a firework
be called a pot of stars, an artichoke, or a Catherine-wheel,
seems not to matter much. A fizz, a splutter, a whirl,
accompanied by an occasional bang, and the discharge of
some meteoric messenger into the air—these are the pheno-
mena with which those sight-seers who frequent such noc-
turnal exhibitions are gratified all the world over.
It was Sunday, and the travellers and their beast rested
through that day at Sens—a bright and lovely day, hot and
still as summer. That afternoon the two friends strolled
out, and, crossing the river, mounted by degrees the range
of hills that lies on the other side. Ascending these by
paths that led among the vineyards, and stopping here and
there to rest and bask in the glorious sunshine, it was some
time before they reached the highest ground of all, and saw
the view in its fullest extent spread out beneath them.
ENJOYMENT.
811
How many tilings go to make up the full enjoyment of
such a scene as that. The winding river might be there,
the patches of woodland, placed as if some cunning gardener
had designed their position, that they might tell to advantage
from these very heights, the long straight road—the same
by which our travellers had approached the town—might
be there, contrasting so well with the winding river, and
forming such a valuable feature as one direct line will
furnish in a rich pattern—all these things might be there,
and the fine cathedral tower too, that lay at the very feet
of our Englishmen .as they stood and looked, and yet, for
want of the right accessories of light and atmosphere, all
might be impaired. Impaired, if there had been no sun-
light to make the meadows more green, and the water more
bright—impaired, if no soft shadows had lain ^caressingly
over the distant woods—impaired, if that thick white cloud
had. not cast such a patch of darkness over the cathedral
tower, and if the light breeze had been wanting to move
the shade away before its beauty grew monotonous.
When the senses convey such scenes as this, and the
sounds of insects and of singing birds which accompany
them—for though the two friends had mounted so high,
they had not got so high as the lark, whose cry is still
 Excelsior"—when the eye and the ear convey these things
to the mind within, they refresh it, just as the pure air
which plays about those hill-tops does the bodily frame.
When Mr. Eudge and his friend descended from the heights
late in the afternoon, they brought down with them a
feeling of serenity and peace which the tavern uproar of
the dinner-table could not disturb, anymore than the fumes
of the meal itself could nullify the effect of the hill breezes
011 their outward frames.
Of course Mazard had accompanied the travellers during
their afternoon ramble, and had sat up enjoying the view
and sniffing the air as only an emancipated cockney could.
The recovery of the dog might now be considered complete,
and his reconcilement to his new life a thing about which
312
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
there could be no doubt. From the moment when he had
once more gone through his old performance, and had evi-
dently become convinced that he was benefiting his master
whenever he bought a cake of him, from that time he
became an altered animal, and moped and pined no longer.
Except that Mr. Pinchbold was glad to escape from the
presence of the Spectre of the Stables, and that both tra-
vellers had had enough, after three dinners in his company,
of the appalling gluttony of the hungry man—but for these
things it would have been with unqualified regret that Mr.
Fudge and his friend regarded their departure from the
Hotel de Paris and the good old town of Sens. The soldiers
were still beforehand with our travellers, and again that
same tune, which had sounded so sadly at Montereau, was
heard in the darkness of earliest morning, getting fainter
and fainter as the troops marched on their way.
It was market day on that morning of Monday, the
eighth of October, when our two friends once more resumed
their journey, and the streets were full of peasants and the
goods which they had brought in from the country for
sale. Their carts, too, met our travellers incessantly for
the first two or three miles of their progress, but after that
they met no more, and once again could feel, in all the
force which the words convey, that they were out on the
 deserted post-roads of France.
They were now well on in their strange journey, and
were penetrating into the very heart of France. What
would come of it neither of the friends could foresee, but
both felt that the chance of their getting to their journey's
end with the aid of a single horse's legs was not a very
secure one. Still they were getting on ; they were in the
Department of the Yonne, and that once traversed, the
Cote d'Or, the Hill of Gold, the glorious old Burgundy
country, lay before them. It would be something if they
drove so far as that.
The effect of Black Monday upon the spirits of Blinkers
was what might be expected in a horse of so variable a
 GETTING ON.
313
temperament. He was in a state of the direst and pro-
fonndest despondency, and in spite of his long rest it was
quite a difficult thing to get him along at all. There was,
indeed, one method of seducing him into activity which
never failed, and this was, to make Mazard run on in front
of him. Blinkers would always (such was the profound
and extraordinary friendship between the two animals) run
after him at any pace which the other chose to adbpt, and
would even, when for the sake of the experiment he was
allowed, follow him from side to side of the road. The
fact is, that Blinkers, as has been said before, required
always something or other to stimulate his mind, and keep
it in a state of activity ; and the monotony of a long road
was a terrible trial to him.
That by which this little party of friends (for Blinkers
and Mazard must always be included under this title) were
now travelling was not characterized by any very remark-
able feature, and there was not much to excite the flagging
energies of the little horse till the grey towers of the Gate
of Villeneuve-sur-Yonne became dimly visible along the
road. The moment that Blinkers caught sight of them,
though at a considerable distance, he set off at a pace which
was almost uncontrollable, and which brought them to this
little town even before the appointed hour of noon.
It was a queer little town, singularly complete in itself,
and destitute of faubourg and suburb. As you approached
the old grey gateway which gave admission to it, you
looked straight down its one short street, and saw the gate-
way at the other end through which you would go out of
it again. The bright river Yonne lay close to the town,
but low down beneath the high ground on which it was
built.
Our travellers had received, before leaving the inn at
Sens, directions as to where they were to put up for their
midday rest on their arrival at Villeneuve. It was a sort
of place between a restaurateur's and an auberge, and not
like an inn at all. There was no yard in which to put the
-'334
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
carriole, and a little narrow lane which went down by the
side of the house, and sloped pretty steeply towards the
river, was indicated as the only place in which they could
leave their vehicle. Into this lane they accordingly turned,
and the ostler—if a sort of general helper who knew nothing
about horses could be called so—came out to help in un-
harnessing Blinkers.
It h^s been mentioned that the lane in which this process
was to take place, was on the slope of the hill. It was
consequently an inconvenient spot enough in which to
leave a vehicle of such lively propensities as the carriole.
Mr. Fudge had noticed this, and having finished unharness-
ing his side of the horse, had just retired in search of a
large object of some kind to put in front of the wheel, when
his attention was suddenly aroused by hearing a tremendous
clattering noise, and looking round he perceived that
Blinkers, attached to one of the shafts by a single strap,
was bolting down the lane with the carriole behind him,
and the other shaft dragging on the ground.
The situation was a critical one. The horse not being
properly harnessed into the shafts, of course the carriole
was left to plunge and bump about as it chose, so that it
•came crashing down upon him if he relaxed his pace even
in the slightest degree, striking him in all sorts of unaccus-
tomed places, while the harness hanging about him, and one
of the shafts, trailing on the ground, made the horse's panic
naturally more uncontrollable every moment. Mr. Fudge
of course started in pursuit, though he felt that it was too
late for him to do any good ; and the man through whose
stupidity the accident had happened, hung on to the shaft
to which the horse was attached, and improved matters
very much by shouting for help at the top of his voice.
But who was it that at the moment when the accident first
occurred—when the first movement of the carriole down
the incline frightened the horse into this sudden flight—
who was it that ran to his head with the quickness of
lightning ? who was it that hung there in spite of the great
A CRITICAL MOMENT.
315
danger of the situation ? who was it that kept his hold in
spite of the increasing speed, as the impetus became greater
with the continued descent ? who was it that was dragged
at this terrific pace down the hill that seemed to lead to
inevitable destruction ? and who was it, finally, that, by
persistent determination, contrived to bring the horse's head
round, and so getting the wheels across the descent arrested
this fearful race in its worst crisis, and brought Blinkers
up panting and snorting, but safe and sound, with his head
against a wall ? It was Pinchbold ! Pinchbold the ner-
vous ! Pinchbold the alarmist! Pinchbold who professed
himself to be the least courageous of men ! Pinchbold,
who bought a double-barrelled pistol because a helper in
the stables of an inn was not so cleanly shaved as he might
have been, and had an ugly way of looking at his master's
customers !
Here was a state of things. Here was the most nervous
man in the world, as he alleged himself to be, doing what
many persons who proclaim themselves excessively coura-
geous, would have thought twice about before attempting.
Here was a gentleman who pronounced a horse, in general,
to be  an awful animal, and who declared himself con-
vinced that this particular horse was one which would be
intimately mixed up with his doom—here he was grappling
with this animal in his most dangerous moments, and finally
conquering and subduing him. Surely men have set up in
business as heroes on less ground than this, and surely Mr.
Fudge was justified in exhibiting some astonishment as well
as pleasure at what he saw.
 Are you hurt ? asked Mr. Fudge, hastening up to his
friend, with whom he had only been able to come up when
all was over. The incompetent ostler pulled off his cap, and
made Mr. Pinchbold a low and deferential bow.
Our worthy friend was much too deficient in breath to
answer Mr. Fudge's question. He was leaning up against
the wall, where he had been flung at the conclusion of the
very rapid act which has just been described.
316
A CllUISE UPON WHEELS.
 I told you, he gasped at length, "that that animal—was
destined—to be our destruction.
 I am perfectly astounded, said Mr. Fudge, warmly
shaking his friend's hand;  I thought you were so nervous
about horses.
 So I am, interrupted Mr. Pinchbold.
 Then how came you to attempt to stop him? inquired
Mr. Fudge.
"I don't know, replied his friend; "I think I couldn't
help it.
 Nonsense, remonstrated Mr. Fudge;  you did it
because you knew it was the right thing to do. I suppose
you couldn't help holding on, too ?
 No ; I became entangled in the harness, and couldn't
get away.
Mr. Fudge laughed at his friend's determination to be
thought a slave to his nerves, and felt convinced of what
had often suggested itself to him before, that in any moment
of real risk, Mr. Pinchbold's nerves might in spite of all he
said in disparagement of them, be safely relied on.
It was some time before the hero of this little adventure
had sufficiently recovered from his recent exertion to be
ready to explore the little town of Villeneuve, but when at
length he announced himself as being once again able to
breathe, the friends left the restaurateur preparing their
midday meal, and marched up the steps of the church, which
seemed, in fact, the only thing to see in the place.
There was something to see in the mere beauty of the
church itself, and still more in the richness and splendour
of the glass which gilded and decorated the light itself before
letting it into this lovely place. But there was more to see
than this. Was there not, at the moment of our travellers'
arrival, a ceremony going on, and that the most unfailing
in its power of exciting interest of any to which the Church
lends itself ? In a word, was not this concourse of villagers,
comprising pretty nearly the whole population of Villeneuve,
got together to see a wedding ?
A WEDDING.
317
Undoubtedly it was so, and as it was apparently only
just beginning, Mr. Fudge and his friend congratulated
themselves on the opportunity ot witnessing the whole of
the ceremonial, and established themselves in a convenient
spot behind the screen of the choir from which to see without
being seen.
There was plenty to see. A morose young man, dressed
in an evening suit of black, and wearing a white
cravat, was kneeling by the side of a depressed young
lady in the costume of a bride; both were resting
their weight chiefly on their elbows, which were sup-
ported by the altar-rails, and both wore white kid
gloves. They would, in short, have resembled a couple of
individuals looking over a balcony at the Carnival, only
that they did not look sufficiently interested to carry out
that idea. Behind this pair were their friends and relatives,
the men seated round the stalls of the choir, the women in
the centre of that portion of the building, headed by a row
of bridesmaids kneeling on a row of chairs, immediately
behind which phalanx appeared an unmistakeable bride's
mother, who was possessed of a red and fiery countenance,
which augured but indifferently for the peace of the future
household. Within the altar rails was the officiating priest,
a paralytic and snuffy old soul enough, with a yellowish-
brOwn wig ; beside him, a chorister boy, holding a handful
of rings.
The bridegroom having in a lounging and discursive
manner selected one of these rings, and just cocked it on
the tip of the bride's finger, having then abandoned all
interest in it, and left the lady herself to fit the ring into
its place, took a pasteboard box out of his pocket, and
receiving all the other rings which the chorister held in his
hand, placed them in the box, and that in turn in his pocket
again. After this the priest solaced himself with a collection,
and then going up to the altar, spent a considerable time in
muttering to himself, the bride reading the while in her
mass-book, and the bridegroom looking about him, a prey
318
A CRUISE UP05T WHEELS.
to wandering thoughts. After this the priest, appearing to-
he in no hurry to return, the bridegroom endeavoured to
engage the bride in light conversation, but was repulsed,
the lady declining to answer. Then a child among the
guests began to talk with that terrific clearness which is
only heard in churches. Then a suisse, or beadle, in a
court dress, but wearing trousers, approached the child,
holding a harlequin's wand in his hand, and menaced the
child with same. Then there was another collection by
what we should call a pew-opener. This collection the
bridegroom endeavoured to get out of, hiding his conn-
tenance in his hands, and pretending to be absorbed in
meditation; but he was smartly tapped on the elbow by
the pew-opener, and made to pay. This over, the priest
turned round and waved his hand, and presently the bride
and bridegroom passed within the rails and advanced to the
altar, upon which the groomsman and the head bridesmaid,
who had been watching their opportunity, took a breadth of'
white calico from the beadle, and, incredible to relate, held
it over the heads of the bride and bridegroom, while the
priest performed some additional mutterings. These over,
all returned to their places, and then there was another col-
lection. This time it seemed to be of a social rather than
an ecclesiastical character, as it was performed by the
groomsman and head bridesmaid, who moved about the
choir to make it, hand-in-hand, and with that peculiar-
dancing step which is called so aptly  se dandinant in the
French language.
Having collected all that was to be had, this pair danced
off into the vestry, whither the rest followed them, and all
was over. The populace, it must be added, seemed from
the first to think it all tremendous fun, and to have an
especial delight in seeing the collections going on, and
feeling that they were not called on to contribute—a
sensation which is, indeed, one of the sweetest of which
humanity is susceptible.
The wedding, the church, and the river were all the
JOIGNY.
319-
lions of Villeneuve, and after a tolerable repast, and a rest
in all of three hours and a half for Blinkers, our travellers
once more took to the road, Mr. Pinchbold being much
disturbed in mind by the extraordinary conduct of a
stranger who, just as they were on the point of starting,
sprang suddenly from some concealed place, and rushing
up to Mr. Fudge, placed a pocket-book before him, and
pointed to these words— Freeman and Co., Whetstone-
park, Lincoln's Inn.
"Do you know? inquired the stranger, in something
supposed to be the English tongue, and with a hideous
grimace.
Mr. Fudge replied that he knew the place, but not the
persons indicated.
 Ah! by reputation, exclaimed the stranger, without
the slightest reason for saying so, and with that he disap-
peared as suddenly as he had shown himself, and was
never seen again.
All that afternoon the travellers wound their way in:
slow but delightful progress through a beautiful country,
the road lying chiefly on the high ground above the river..
The weather Avas still most favourable, but towards evening
the clouds began to gather in the wildest and most terrific
forms behind them, the black shapes seeming to pursue
them like a vengeance. It was Avreaked, hoAvever, else-
where, for but a few drops fell, and then the sun shone out
again in all its splendour.
Beyond the apparition on the road of an Italian musician
wheeling his organ in front of him in the direction of
Joigny, and concerning whom Mr. Pinchbold conceived
the most terrific suspicions, nothing of any sort occurred to
mark the journey from Villeneuve. The sun Avas setting
as the travellers descended into the town of Joigny, and
took their way along the quays by the river-side in search
of the Hotel de la Poste.
By the dim and uncertain light shed from the last
glimmer of the day, and the faint rays of the lamp above
320
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
the inn-door, Mr. Fudge and his friend made out that a
sentinel was pacing backwards and forwards before the inn.
Still the soldiers, then. Still the same difficulties in getting
shelter. Still that strain of music in the darkness of the
morning.
There seemed even less hope of accommodation than ever
at the Hotel de la Poste. The officers had possession of
everything. It was a desultory, ungoverned sort of hotel this,
that took care of itself as well as it could. The establish-
ment, according to Mr. Pinchbold's account, consisted of a
young girl assisted by two satirical old women, a delightful,
boy—a sort of scullion, who alone seemed disposed to assist
the travellers—and a cook, or chef-de-cuisine, who Avas,
perhaps—primus inter pares—at the head of the rest. In
the stable was a very meek ostler and a truculent boy, Avho
showed Mr. Fudge a horse of his master's Avhich was in the.
habit of trotting six miles in five minutes. This boy, as
might be expected, Avas guilty of the dastardly act of steal-,
ing the candle out of Mr. Fudge's stable-lantern.
The deficiency of accommodation Avas so great at the
Hotel de la Poste, that there Avas no one found Avho Avould
even promise a room to our tAvo Englishmen. They might,
if they liked, have the room which the officers Avere using
as a salle-ct-manger, when those gentlemen had done Avith
it. A couple of beds should, somehoAv or other, be made up
in that apartment—that was absolutely all the inn could do
for them.
Never was such a room as that Avhen our travellers at
length got into it.  It Avas enough to banish sleep for ever,
to look around you, says Mr. Pinchbold.  At one end of
the room, which was about forty feet long, Avas a vast side-
board, and at the other, a couple of truckle bedsteads, put
in for the occasion ; between them a landscape hung on the
Avail, a church tower being one of the features of the scene,
and in the church toAver, a real clock that went. The
other decoration of the walls consisted of a couple of prints
from the life of Napoleon. One of them shows him at the
J01GNY.
321
siege of Montereau. He is surrounded by a staff of officers,
in whose countenances the keenest alarm for their own
safety is obviously depicted. And in these circumstances
they are encouraged by the Emperor in rather a peculiar
manner : ' My friends,' he says, ' go on—the bullet which
is to kill me is not yet cast.' A remark this, which seems
to afford less consolation to the panic-stricken staff than
would have been conveyed by an assurance that the bullets
which were to kill them had not yet been cast.
 The companion print to this shows us the same illus-
trious general wounded at Katisbonne. He is standing
firmly upon the wounded foot, which is being bound up by
a surgeon. The Emperor's other foot is in the stirrup,
which depends from the saddle of a milk-white charger,
who is trotting away from him at the rate of twelve
English miles per hour. Mr. Pinchbold concludes this
entry by expressing his intense dislike of the idea of sleep-
ing in a room containing a long dining-table, a sideboard,
and vinegar cruets. He also appears to be much disturbed
by two doors, which open out of the room into a mysterious
passage, and which he is unable to secure to his liking.
Well, one can sleep even in a room with a cruetstand
proclaiming it for a dining-room, if one is but sufficiently
tired out with travelling. No panacea for sleep like the
fatigue and change of a journey.
Y
S22
CHAPTER XIX.
AN ADVENTUROUS CHAPTER, IN WHICH MR. PINCHBOLD THINKS HE
IS POISONED, AND TOWARDS THE CONCLUSION OP WHICH OUR
TRAVELLERS ARE BENIGHTED IN A STRANGE COUNTRY, AND LOSE
THEIR WAY.
If we in England were to meet with a commercial traveller,
who, being a man of rough and bulky outside, should, on
descending from his vehicle, fish up out of its innermost
recesses a very little lapdog, and before depositing it care-
fully on the ground, should kiss it on the forehead—if this
phenomenon were presented to our eyes in our native land,
how surprised we should be. Yet all this took place in
the courtyard of the Hotel de la Poste, just as our travellers
were leaving that inn on the morning of Tuesday, the 9th
of October. The commercial gentleman's dog was one of
those little, spoiled, shivering animals which no dog of
condition will hear of; so directly he was put down, Hazard
began barking at him so ferociously, that his master
instantly caught him up and replaced him again in the
caleche.
At Joigny our travellers turned aside from the main
road, which goes by St. Florentin, and set their faces
towards Auxerre, to which place they were obliged to go
in consequence of their having directed that their letters, as
well as certain remittances of money, should be forwarded
to that town. Here, in consequence of this detour, they
took leave of the military, who pursued the high road.
Mr. Pinchbold was very gloomy on the subject of the
divergence from the main road. He affirmed, and with
A NEW TANIC.
323
■some truth, that a change had come over the aspect of
everything sinee they left Sens, and that an awful wildness
was beginning to characterize the towns and villages through
which they passed. This truth had indeed struck both our
travellers in the course of a walk they had taken the night
before about the town of Joigny. As for Auxerre, the
mere look of it on the map,  stuck aside in an out-of-the-
way corner, as he described it, was enough for Mr. Pinch-
bold. In short, Mr. Pinchbold, who never lost faith in hi?
presentiments from their not coming true, had a presenti-
mentthat he and his friend were now going to their doom
In good earnest.
It was not a morning to dissipate unpleasant impressions.
The day had begun ill, and though the rain held up for a
little while as our "Englishmen were driving out of the inn-
yard, it soon came on again, and all the landscape, far and
near, was enveloped in a haze of descending moisture.
Blinkers was in a desperate state of gloom, and Mazard,
curled up on the luggage at the back of the carriole, was,
according to the sensible plan of the canine species when in
difficulties, waiting for better times in the glorious un-
consciousness of sleep.
To travel on a chilly autumn day along a very straight
road, the prospect on either side veiled with mist, and no-
thing to look at in front but a dejected horse, trotting along
under protest, with his head down, and every now and
then absolutely tripping in the fulness of his despondency ;
to have the rain beating into the vehicle, not to be excluded
perfectly by either apron or curtain, this is not exactly the
kind of thing which is most calculated to raise the spirits.
What wonder that when after about three hours and a
half of this sort of enjoyment, our travellers arrived, wet
and despondent, at the most dismal, the tallest, the squarest,
the blackest, and most deserted looking inn they had yet
encountered, and were shown into a vast apartment without
a fire, where they were waited upon by an ill-looking inn-
keejoer, who retired from time to time into an adjoining
y 2
324
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
room, and held muttered conferences with two ruffians who
were playing at billiards—what wonder that the sensitive
mind of Mr. Pinchbold should suggest to him that they
had fallen upon an evil auberge ; and what wonder that he
should take it into his head, immediately after the conclu-
sion of a slight repast, at which he had partaken of some
coffee which Mr. Fudge had declined, that the coffee had
been drugged and that he was poisoned.
Of course Mr. Fudge, who had not intended to partake
of the coffee, at once seized his cup and drained it of its
contents, as soon as his friend had mentioned this terrific
suspicion, and as no evil consequences followed upon this
intrepid act, Mr. Pinchbold, who was a moment before far
advanced in all the symptoms of death by poisoning, began
to recover himself. All would now have gone well if it
had not happened that Mr. Fudge, falling into one of those
reveries to which he was occasionally subject, and pursuing
it to a ridiculous extent, had given vent, as if talking to
himself, to the following awful remark:
 Suppose I was suddenly to go mad, and rush into the
next room, jump upon the billiard-table, and begin dancing
a hornpipe ?
"It was drugged! said Mr. Pinchbold, rising hastily,
with horror and consternation depicted upon every feature.
 It is telling on your brain, while with me it affects the—
the stomach—come along he continued, seizing his com-
panion's arm, and dragging him towards the door,  let us
lose no time, let us leave this place without a moment's
delay.
To tell how Mr. Pinchbold from this moment turned all
the colours of the rainbow—how he complained of giddiness,
of vertigo, of pains in the pit of the stomach, of sickness, of
tingling in the extremities—of everything, in short, that he
had read of in the newspapers as indicating the presence of
poison ; to tell how he absolutely spun about the inn-yard,
in his efforts to hasten the preparations for the departure of
the carriole, and how the innkeeper came out and moodily
A NEW PANIC.
325
stared at his goings on ; to tell of these things would convey
but a feeble picture of the scene as it really took place.
Even when they were once out of the inn, and on the
road again, nothing Avould induce Mr. Pinchbold to alter
his opinion as to the danger which he and his friend had
passed through. He went through a performance in the
carriole which would have done credit to a great actor.
He writhed and twisted himself into all sorts of contortions;
he went off in short dozes, and starting up out of them,
clutched his companion's arm, and staring wildly, inquired
if the enemy was in pursuit? More than this, he was not
the least to be persuaded that Mr. Fudge was any better
than himself, as he told him in so many words. Nor was
it to any purpose that Mr. Fudge protested and vowed that
he never felt better in his life; Mr. Pinchbold would not
hear of anything of the kind. Whatever Mr. Fudge did,
his friend was sure to interpret so as to suit it to his view
of the case. If Mr. Fudge leant back in his seat, Mr.
Pinchbold would glance sideways at him, and mutter
triumphantly,  Ah, drowsy. If he got out to walk up a
hill, his friend would say,  I see ; you are trying to shake
it off—do so—do so, by all means; I hope it will answer.
If Mr. Fudge sneezed, it was a convulsion; if he coughed,
he was choking; if he yawned, it was the approach of coma.
 You conceal your sufferings better than I do, said Mr.
Pinchbold ;  but I know what you're going through.
At last Mr. Pinchbold himself fell into a state of coma,
or, in other words, into a good sound nap, from which
refreshment he awoke about five in the afternoon, when
sitting up in his place, and seeing the town of Auxerre
Avitliin range, he drew at length a Arery long breath, and
pronounced himself better. Nothing, however, then or
afterwards, would persuade this imaginative gentleman that
he had been the victim of a delusion. All Mr. Fudge's
attempts to rally him upon the subject were received
very gravely; and that gentleman Avas obliged at last to
alloAV his friend to rest firm in his opinion, that he had been
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
poisoned; an opinion which, indeed, he retains unimpaired!
at this moment.
With such an impression on his mind, it will readily be-
believed that Mr. Pinehbold entered the town of Auxerre
in no very favourable frame of mind for receiving a pleasant,
impression of the place. Nor after a day of rain and cold:
was his friend in much better cue.. The town looked, in
the still falling rain, exceedingly melancholy, and wild,
enough to have satified Mr. Pinehbold's dreariest anticipa-
tions.
The Fountain was the name of the inn at which our
travellers were to put up; and here, as there were no*
officers to be provided for, there was at least plenty of room.
Having handed over Blinkers to the care of an ostler, with
a nose about half-an-inch long, Mr. Fudge and his friend
started for the post-office, where they found letters^, indeed,,
but no money. This was a great blow, as both gentlemen
wanted to get on, and were quite unable to do so unless a
remittance came. There was nothing for it but to trust to*
the next day's post; and as the hour of the dinner had not
yet arrived,, to take advantage of a cessation of rain, and see
the town.
We find, from Mr. Pinchbold's diary, that two particular
trades flourish in an extraordinary manner, and that, in
short, the principal characteristics of the town are the pork-
butchers' shops, and shops established for the sale of what
are theatrically termed  character-wigs.  Heavy father
wigs, says Mr. Pinehbold, "notaries' wigs, priests' wigs,
with a tonsure at the top complete, debardeur wigs, and
white curly wigs, show in the shop windows to an extent
which makes one's own native wig to bristle with amaze-
ment. Having satisfied themselves that this extraordinary
article of commerce is the staple commodity of the trade of
Auxerre, the two friends next turned their steps towards
one of the two great ehurches, whose towers show so con-
spicuously as one approaches the town.
The beauty of this church was very great; and our
COMMERCIAL TRAVELLERS. 321
travellers safe for a while in its nave, and watched the huge
shadows as they gathered over: the interior of the building
at the decline of day. In one dark corner of the church a
couple of nuns were praying, so shrouded in the obscurity
that: they were hardly visible.. Nothing could be more
beautiful, nothing more solemn^ nothing less sad. The
sun, which throughout that stormy day had been altogether
concealed, came out now as it was setting, and poured
through the. west window, blazing in the coloured glass in
such wise that, to an uneducated mind, this opening in the.
dark cathedral might well have looked like one of the gates
of heaven. There may be finer churches than this at
Auxerre; there may be better glass than is found in its
windows; more exalted arches than those which support
its roof; but whether it was from some fortunate combina-
tion of circumstances, some effect of light, some happy
crisis of the day, or some condition of the minds of our two
Englishmen fitting: them more especially for solemn
thoughts, certain it is that the impression left on both their
minds by that church at Auxerre, as it showed in the feint
light of that October evening,, was one of those which a
man will treasure in his memory for a whole lifetime, and
perhaps bear in mind when it is near its closing hour..
At Auxerre, the commis-voyageurs, or commercial
travellers, mustered, strong in the salle-a-manger; and as
Mr. Fudge and his friend took note of their manners at
table, and of their style of conversation, they were both
continually, reminded of the works of one great author, who
is, indeed, incessantly brought before one from the first
moment of crossing the Channel.  How like de Balzac!
is the one phrase for ever in one's mouth, as each new
phase of French social life becomes developed before one.
These commercial travellers, whom our two Englishmen
now met at every inn they visited, were all singularly
alike, and the same types were continually reproduced
among them. There was almost always in a company of
half-a-dozen of these gentlemen one who was looked upon
328
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
as a farceur, or joker, another who played into his hands,
or drew him out, a cynical man, and a sentimental man,
who was generally very fat.
Curiously enough, the dinners were almost as uniformly
the same as the company which partook of them. There
was always a peculiar kind of thin soup, with great lumps
of bread (not toast) floating about in it, and with its surface
adorned with so many oily rings that one might fancy that
the bread that was floating about was not bread, but bread-
and-butter. This soup, which never varied, was followed
by a piece of exhausted bouilli, which would infallibly be
replaced by a dish called civet de lievre, remotely re-
sembling jugged-hare, but characterized by an extraordi-
nary richness and blackness in the gravy, and by a flavour
like furniture polish. After the civet would come
invariably a plate of haricot beans; and this, in turn,
would be succeeded by a very large roast fowl, with water-
cresses and a salad. Sometimes, too, a dish of fish, of the
stalest kind, would be introduced between the hare and the
fowl; but the part of France in which our travellers now
found themselves was remote from the sea, and that
thought, coupled with a singular looseness of fibre on the
part of the fish itself, a vagueness of form rendering it
difficult to decide to what particular family the specimen
belonged, and a very strong and overwhelming sauce—all
these rendered this dish not a popular one with either of
our two Englishmen. The sweet dish which, in this
inevitable dinner, followed the fowl, was a kind of stiff rice-
pudding, which was very good, and with which the dinner
generally ended; the cheese—a little scrap of horny
Gruyere—being part of the dessert, and appearing in
company with a dish of grapes, one of peaches, generally
unripe, and a peculiar kind of sponge-biscuit, never absent
from French desserts.
The inn at Auxerre was, according to Mr. Pinchbold,
tmder the government of a long-nosed, Jewish, lazy, and
contemptuous landlady, who from a habit of leaning against
 GOOD-NATURED WENCHES.
329
a sort of press in the kitchen, and gazing up with a vitreous
eye into the lamp which hung from the ceiling, and from
other indications, Mr. P. sets down as given to intempe-
ranee. The waitress in the salle-a-manger is described as
horribly akin in appearance to this landlady, but evidently
considering herself, and looked upon by the commis-voya-
geurs, as very fascinating. Mr. Pinchbold speaks of a
ruffianly landlord, rarely seen; of an ostler whom neither
he nor his friend could understand, and whom Mr. P.
regarded with suspicion; and of a sort of maid-of-all-Work,
who befriended the travellers, and who belonged to a class
which is largely represented in France, and whom we will
venture to call  the good-natured wenches.
These  good-natured wenches are all alike, and delight-
ful it is to think that there are so many persons in the
World who are calculated to reconcile one to humanity.
They are all stout, all red-cheeked, they all stare, and are in
a chronic state of good-humoured astonishment. They are
never tired, they go to bed late, they rise early, they do all
the work of the house, they will promise you anything,
execute their promise if they can, and at any rate they will
never complain of any amount of trouble you may give
them ; but when you think you have completely worn them
out, will volunteer all. sorts of new prodigies in your ser-
vice. Blessings on the good-natured wenches of France !
Diogenes should have given up his honest man, and brought
his lantern to bear on some of these bright specimens of the
human race, for doubtless they existed in his time as they
do, most happily, in ours.
It was to this class, too, that Mazard, who invariably
wound himself around their hearts, was indebted for many
indulgences and luxuries which he would otherwise have
been without. If Mr. Pinchbold wanted to supply his
faithful dog with an extra bone, or a saucerful of milk, it
was always to the  good-natured wench that he applied,
and never did he apply in vain.
At Auxerre our travellers indulged in that luxury, the
330
A CRUISE UPON "WHEELS;
first fire of the season. It was kindled in Mr. Pinchbold's
apartment, which he describes as a detestable room, looking
like a chamber in a prison, in a madhouse, in a hospital,;
in a. workhouse, the bed and the window furnished with
yellow cotton curtains. A chest of drawers with a marble
top served for a washing-stand, the window looked upon a
dead-wall in the corner of the stable-yard, and the room
was further lighted by an oail-de-boeuf over the door. The
walls were destitute of any kind of print or picture.
Mr. Pinchbold's private papers seem to indicate an
intense longing on his part and that of his friend to get
away from Auxerre, which accounts for the fact that on
the next day after their arrival they determined to start
for Tonnerre, though they had been kept so long in wait-
ing for letters, and after the arrival of a bank post bill, by,
the difficulties attending the converting, it into money, that
it was considerably past ten o'clock before it was possible
for them to get away.
It was the 10th of October, the days were short, and a
journey of something like nine leagues, or twenty-seven
miles, was too much to be got through in the: time they had
yet before them.
They started, however, and the distance they had to.
conquer between Auxerre and Chablis, their midday rest-
ing-place, was at first considerably beguiled by the charming
nature of the country through which they passed. It was
one incessant alternation of hill and valley. Sometimes
they crept over the vine-covered hills and looked down,
into lovely little cultivated valleys, sometimes they wound
along the valleys and looked up at the hills. But which-
ever they did, there was little difference in the beauty of
the scenes among which their road lay. The peasants, too,
were now engaged with the first preparations for the
vintage, and so the excessive solitude, which had sometimes
given an almost awful character to their day's journey, was
broken into, and the way made cheerful as well as infinitely,
lovely.
STARTING LATE.,
331
Of Chablis itself, the town which gives its name to the
wine which, as an accompaniment to a plate of oysters, is
inseparable from every perfect dinner : of this little town
there is not much to be remarked, except that it is situated
in a beautiful country, and that it is much smaller and more
■wild than from the importance of its wine-trade might
have been expected. It is also surprising enough that
there is no railroad to this place, though one passes within
not more than twelve miles of it. The preparations in the
town for the vintage and the wine-pressing were going on
with tolerable activity, and the great vats, used only once
a year, were being cleaned and got ready for use in all
directions. Of course, some Chablis wine formed part of
our. travellers' midday meal, and both gentlemen agreed
that that famous liquor lost nothing by being tasted on the
spot.
How many are there among the readers of these pages
who have not gone through with some project, which incli-
nation, or rather a sort of passionate obstinacy, has forced
them to adhere to, while a monitor, called Eeason, within,
has secretly protested all the while against its execution.
There are probably few persons to whom such an expe-
rience as this is unknown. On occasions of this sort, the
mind is wondrously fertile in reasons why the course which
we wish to adopt is the right one, while at the same time
not one of these reasons is able to produce a state of perfect
and Gornfbrtable conviction.
Now a struggle of this kind was going on in the breasts
of our two Englishmen. Eeason said, stay for the night at
Chablis. Inclination said, push for Tonnerre. Now as far
as argument went, unquestionably Eeason had the best of
it. The travellers had started late in the day from Auxerre.
They had found the journey to Chablis much longer than
they had expected, and had, indeed, not reached that place
till two o'clock in the afternoon, the time when, considering
the length of the journey, they ought to have been leaving
it. If they determined to get on, the rest which Blinkers
332
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
required, of four hours, would have to be shortened to a
repose of two, or at most two and a half, and even then, in
the middle of October, the darkness would not be long in
overtaking them after they had left Chablis, so they would
be benighted on a road with which they were unacquainted.
Added to all this was the fact that Blinkers had already
done fifteen miles of incessant hill, and was tired, while
something like thirteen miles more, of hilly road also, lay
between Chablis and Tonnerre.
There was nothing to be said in favour of pushing on.
Even the inn at Chablis was a very fair one, the landlady
was a pleasant person, the cook, who had been in the
service of a French count, a capital fellow, while a loqua-
cious and amusing ostler completed the staff of the inn
servants in a most satisfactory manner. Against all this,
what was there to be said on the other side ? Nothing,
absolutely nothing. The travellers certainly might find as
good quarters at Tonnerre, or even better, but then the
chances were quite equal that they might not. In short,
there Avas but one thing to be said. They Avanted to get
on. They had set their minds on reaching Tonnerre, and
could not bear to be baulked.
Whenever people ha\re decided on a course which they
feel to be wrong, or, at any rate, doubtful, they are always
in a Avonderful hurry to take the step about which they
have been arguing Avith themselves, in order that they may
be able to silence the voice of reason by saying,  Well, it's
done noAV, at any rate, so it's no use thinking any more
about it. Accordingly it happened now that both Mr,
Fudge and his friend Avere quite uneasy and fidgety till
they could once more get under way, and feel that  now
they must get on to Tonnerre.
And here the author of these pages Avould venture, if he
may, to give one Avord of caution and advice, founded on
experience, to any among his readers who may feel inclined
to undertake some such a journey as this which is the
subject of the present narrative. Above all things, then, I
ADVICE.
333
would say, do not attempt too much: Beware of forced
marches; and if in any case the performance of a day's
journey beyond the average allowance becomes indispen-
sable, fortify your horse with a rest the day before, and
start so early in the morning that you can allow a repose
of not less than four hours in the middle of the day. Give
your horse two rests a week, the Sunday always, and, if
possible, the Wednesday or Thursday—whichever is most
convenient—as well. Be satisfied with twenty miles a day,
which, after all, with two days of repose, will give you one
hundred miles in the week. By all which rules, if you
abide, you may enjoy the most delightful mode of travelling
in the world, and reach your journey's end more surely, as
well as more safely, than if you attempt to do more than
your beast is equal to, and come at last to a "break-
down.
I dare say Mr. Fudge could have given the reader all
this good advice as well as he who now writes it down,
though he did not in the present case act on it. Both he
and Mr. Pinchbold were bent on pushing forward, and so
neither of them would acknowledge that Blinkers, when he
was brought out of the stable to be put to, looked tired,
any more than they would own to the fact that it would
be dark in an hour from the time they started, that the
road was one incessant chain of hills, and that it was very
possible they might lose the way, or that Blinkers might
break down and be absolutely unable to get on.
They started, and the river Serain, which runs through
Chablis, had hardly been crossed, when the first symptoms
of waning daylight began moodily to assert their existence,
and the first hill of the chain, of which they had been told
in the town, proclaimed itself in every inch of the tightened
traces. It was at this time that Mr. Pinchbold, with a
grim countenance, suggested that the moment had arrived
when, as their journey was to be pursued without the aid
of daylight, it would be expedient that the pistol, which
had been lying idle in its box since the day of its purchase,
334
A CItUISE UPON WHEELS.
should be loaded and placed in some convenient spot ready
for use.
Surely there never was anything which seemed so beset
with difficulties as the execution of this idea appeared to be
to him whose brain had just suggested it. The hands of
Mr. Fudge being engaged in driving, the task of loading
the pistol devolved naturally enough on Mr. Pinchbold,
and a difficult operation enough it proved. Between his
own nervousness, the want of light, and the shaking and
bumping of the carriole, this unfortunate gentleman found
so much difficulty in pouring the powder out of the flask
into the measure, and out of the measure into the barrel
of the pistol, that he was several times on the point of
giving the whole thing up, and was only induced to continue
his exertions by his conviction of the extreme danger of
the situation in which he and his friend were placed.
Then, when this part of the affair was at length accom-
plished, there were more difficulties to be encountered with
the caps—which Mr. Pinchbold contrived to upset more
than once—and the bullets, which were such a tight fit that
it was as difficult to force them into the pistol-barrel as if
they had been members of a Peace Society, and were
protesting against being used as engines of warfare. Nor
were Mr. Pinehbold's difficulties with the pistol itself by
any means the only ones which he had to encounter. He
was desperately anxious for secresy while he was engaged
in his bellicose preparations, feeling convinced, as he assured
his friend, that if any passer-by were to catch him thus
employed, the rumour would go forth that the two English-
men were travelling with an immense hoard of wealth, or
else they would not have recourse to such alarming pre-
cautions for their safety. This being so, it would some-
times happen that just as Mr. Pinchbold had nearly accom-
plished his task, a solitary labourer—as they were still
near the town—would meet them on his way to Chablis, at
sight of whom our nervous friend would at once abandon
his occupation, and conceal his weapon under the apron of
LOAUTNG THE TISTOL.
835
the carriole till the man was well <out of sight. Nay, once
he received a terrific start from a very small donkey which
overtook them as they were slowly ascending a hill, and
which, looking round as .soon as its head was past the
front of fiie carriole, caught .Mr. Pinehbold with the pistol
actually in ,his hand.
Nor even when the murderous weapon was fairly charged
were all Mr. Pincbbold's troubles over. The selection of
a spot an which to place it, where it would be convenient
to the grip, and yet not likely to lodge its contents in the
small ofthe baekof one of the two travellers, was the next dif-
hcuhy. Nor was Mr. Pinehbold at all rendered less uneasy
on this last head by the fact that the pistol had no cap upon
it, and was only half-cocked, it being a firm conviction of
that gentleman's that all firearm®, whether loaded or other-
wise, had the power of going off at a moment's notice, and
dealing death and destruction around ihem.
And now Mr. Pinehbold lias at length constructed a sort
of valley between a carpet-bag and a portmanteau, in which
the pistol can lie with its mouth towards the back of the
carriole; and Mazard, who has been inspecting the whole
loading process with great satisfaction, and who, in the
extremity of his interest, has several times been jolted off
the box on which he has been standing to get a better view
—Mazard, we say, comes down from his eminence and
jumps out after his master, who has got out with Mr. Fudge
to walk up a hill. .And now the darkness is coming on
with a vengeance, and all the little wooded valleys are
becoming shrouded in a black veil, and the hills are grey,
and the . sky is grey too, in its twilight suit, a greyness which
does not last long, but long enough to show Mr. Pinehbold
a party of five or six men descending from a neighbouring
height, who pass behind the carriole—furiously barked at
by Mazard—and can be seen no more, but concerning
whom Mr. Pinehbold is convinced that their intentions are
sinister.
Soon the friends get back into the carriole, and being at
336
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
the top of the hill, try to get on a little; but a descent
follows the hill, and it will not do to go fast, for Blinkers is
really tired now, and has stumbled more than once. They
come to a post on which the kilometres are marked, and
find that out of the sixteen and a half kilometres from
Chablis to Tonnerre, they have done seven, and that about
nine and a half, or about seven miles, still remain.
It is getting quite dark now, and the road is bad and full
of loose stones, and there is no moon, and sometimes they
come to places where other roads diverge, and where they
are obliged to stop while Mr. Fudge gets down, and, taking
one of the carriage-lamps out of its place, holds it up to the
finger-post in order to read what is inscribed upon it.
Sometimes, too, the finger-post has an illegible inscription,
and they can make nothing of it, and are obliged to consider
which direction they ought to be going in, and Mr. Pinch-
bold gets into difficulties with the mariner's compass and
the map, and it ends in their choosing the road that looks
the most frequented, that is to say, as far as they can
judge by the traces of wheels upon it and other signs of
traffic.
And so they drag wearily along, now getting out to walk,
now getting in again in the hope of quickening the pace, but
always finding it necessary to abandon this attempt lest
some accident should happen through the little horse's ten-
dency to stumble.
It was during one of these spasmodic efforts to advance,
and while, there being a little bit of straight road, the un-
happy Blinkers had managed to accelerate his movements
into a trot, that Mr. Pinchbold, leaning forward with his
head out of the carriole, beheld a phantom form of prodigious
size, which appeared to him to be following, or rather keep-
ing pace with, the carriole as it passed along.
 What's that ? said Mr. Pinchbold grasping his com-
panion's arm, and speaking in that peculiar accent of quiet,
breathless clearness, which seems reserved for the expression
of supernatural terror.
A PHANTOM.
337
Mr. Pudge looked hastily in the direction indicated by
his friend, and was for a moment startled himself.
By the side of the road was a very high bank, and on the
top of this an irregular sort of hedge of bushes and small
stumps of trees; behind this hedge, and moving exactly at
the pace at which the carriole itself was running, appeared
an erect black mass, bearing some resemblance to a human
figure, but of gigantic size. The form ran thus along
behind the hedge till it came to a place where the high
bank and the hedge abruptly stopped; at this point it
suddenly vanished.
The action of Mr. Pinchbold's heart was arrested, and
when he attempted, after a long pause, to speak, it was
only by guess that Mr. Fudge made out that his accents
conveyed a repetition of his former inquiry.
"I really don't know what it was, Mr. Fudge replied.  I
never saw anything the least like it before.
 How inexpressibly awful, said Mr. Pinchbold, his
teeth chattering as he spoke.  Even the dog has his hair
standing on enda phenomenon, by the bye, which was to
be accounted for by the fact that Mr. Pinchbold, in the
plenitude of his agitation, was stroking this faithful animal
the wrong way.
 It was not a human being, continued Mr. Pinchbold,
in a panic-stricken voice ; "it was too tall; it was not an
animal because it was erect.
 I think, interrupted Mr. Fudge, who had been turning
the matter over in his mind,  that it must have been a
tree.
 A tree! retorted Mr. Pinchbold, with a mixture of
terror and disdain.  Do trees move along by the side of
the road ? A tree, indeed!
 My belief, persisted Mr. Fudge,  is, that it was a
very black tree, at some considerable distance from the
road; and I believe that we passed the near objects so
much more quickly than we passed it, that it, as contrasted
with them, appeared to accompany us.
z
338
A CRUISE UPON V!HEELS.
 Preposterous! was -all that Mr. Pinchbold could
answer.  You are a perfect Sadducee to be able to talk in
such a manner.
 "Well, shall we go back and examine into it ? inquired
Mr. Fudge, making as if he was going to pull up.
 No, on no account, replied Mr. Pinchbold, in a great
hurry.  I am quite satisfied that it was an apparition.
 And I am quite satisfied that it was a tree, retorted
Mr. Fudge, who, we must own, had only arrived, with some
difficulty, at this conclusion himself.
Increased difficulties in getting Blinkers along soon
brought the discussion as to the real nature of the pheno-
menon by the roadside to a termination ; but a fixed con-
viction of its supernatural origin remained quite firm in
Mr. Pinchbold's mind.
Nothing could now exceed the desolateness of the
situation. A close fine rain was falling, it was intensely
cold, and pitch dark. Not a light was to be seen in any
direction ,; and there was so much wind with the rain, that
the lamps, whose glass fitted very badly, were continually
blown out.
"What a situation ? said Mr. Pinchbold, as this cheer-
ing occurrenc® took place for the third time.  Eain,
wind, darkness, a road we know nothing about, probably
a wrong one, a horse dead beat, and phantoms moving
about in all directions.
 I don't mind much about the phantoms, replied his
friend;  and as to the horse, if he could go faster it would
be inexpedient to let him, on account of the extreme
darkness. Stay—is that—no—yes 
 A light! interrupted Mr. Pinchbold it must be
Tonnerre.
 I am half afraid not, said Mr. Fudge, with some
anxiety in his voice;  it glimmers so faintly, and there is,
only one.
The travellers were long in nearing the light, which
went through all the phases which lights always do go
LOST!
339
through under such circumstances, becoming first faint,
and then strong, then disappearing altogether, and then
suddenly showing again; till at last, after a progress that
seemed perfectly endless,, our two benighted adventurers got
near enough to it to see that, it was but one feeble light,
indeed, showing in the window of a solitary cottage,
standing at some little distance from.the side of the road..
This was the hardest thing to bear of all. Both Mr.
Fudge and his companion began now to feel almost despe-
rate; their hopes had been raised by this light, though
they had scarcely acknowledged to themselves that they
were so; and. now they were utterly dashed. There were
no more lights to be seen now, strain their eyes as they
would ; an impenetrable black veil was over everything.
It was too evident now that Blinkers was dead beat; the
only pace he could attempt, whether the road was up-hill
or down-hill (and ■ it was always one or the other) was a
very slow walk; and this even at times became impossible,
and the Ettle horse would stop outright. At every fresh
declivity, too, Mr. Fudge, who was dreadfully afraid that
Blinkers would fell,, was obliged to get out and put the drag
on ; and as the road consisted of a chain of small hills and
valleys, this interruption to progress occurred about every
five minutes.
At last, they arrived at the foot of a hill, which, from
the whiteness of the road enabling them to see some way
before them, appeared longer than those over which they
had hitherto been passing.
 If something doesn't 1 turn up' at the top of that hill, I
shall begin to lose all hope, said Mr. Fudge.
Mr. Pinchboid did not answer; he had got past the
period when words are any relief. Both gentlemen got out
to walk up this hill; but even then the ascent was not
accomplished without many stoppages. At the top of the
hill, when it was at length attained, a road branched off
suddenly to the right; and as there was a finger-post at the
corner, Mr. Fudge struck a light, and holding his lantern
z 2
340
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
up to the inscription, read these words:— Road from Ton-
nerre to Noyers; an arrow pointing down this road was
placed exactly under the word Tonnerre.
 If we go in the direction indicated by the arrow I sup-
pose we are all right, said Mr. Fudge, after puzzling some
time at the inscription. The fact is, he was thoroughly
stupified with hunger and fatigue.
Mr. Pinchbold was not in a state to offer an opinion;
but he was heard to mutter indistinctly, that he supposed
that, unless somebody murdered them, he and his friend
would get to some human habitation the next morning;
but that the horse was so utterly knocked up that there
was an end of the journey.
 And the toils and hardships of it, said Mr. Pinchbold,
at length speaking intelligibly,  are so many that really
one could hardly wish it otherwise.
The travellers were now pursuing the new route into
which they had turned, and which had, at any rate, the
merit of being tolerably flat. There was, however, no
light to be seen in any direction, and no signs of any like-
lihood of their journey coming to a termination.
 I begin to think we have made some mistake, said
Mr. Fudge, after they had been dragging thus wearily along
for some time. "We are upon high ground; there seems
nothing to impede the view; and though it is so dark, we
should see a light if there was one within any reasonable
distance. And Mr. Fudge pulled up once more, and
standing up in his place, strained his eyes into the distance
in all directions.
"' Tonnerre a Noyers,' you said, did you not ? askpd
Mr. Pinchbold, rousing himself by a supernatural effort,
as he saw that his companion stood really in need of assist-
ance.
 That was the inscription, answered Mr. Fudge, help-
lessly.
 But how do you know that the arrow was not pointing
to Noyers ?
LOST !
341
"I have just been thinking, replied Mr. Pudge,
 whether it might be so. At all events, I'm afraid that it
is useless pursuing this route, and that we must retrace our
steps to the finger-post.
If the travellers had pursued that road, it is likely enough
that some part of Mr. Pinchbold's prophecy might have
been verified, for it was indeed the road to Noyers, and
that town was at least twenty miles off".
And now the wretched Blinkers had to be turned round,
and the road which they had followed for a considerable
distance, had all to be traversed once again, at the same
Walking pace. It seemed as if the finger-post would never
be reached. Arrived at this point, the travellers came to
the resolution of continuing the road on which they had
originally been travelling, and of sticking to it at any rate,
come of it what might. It was not long before a consider-
able descent began to make itself felt, and Mr. Fudge got
down again to put on the drag. He was startled from this
occupation by a joyous exclamation from Mr. Pinchbold.
 I see a light! cried that gentleman.
Mr. Fudge looked in the direction pointed out by his
friend, and saw the light also. Presently, he advanced a
few paces along the road, and looked further down the hill.
"All* right, he said ;  there are several lights; we are
close to the town at last. Look, Blinkers ! continued Mr.
Fudge, absolutely, in the fulness of his benevolence, turning
the horse's head in the direction of the lights.  See there,
old boy 1—we shall soon be there now. And with that he
mounted to his place again, and with a crack of the whip
and a cheery cry to the little Irishman, started the weary
load once more.
342
CHAPTER XX.
tonnerre, and best. some account of the goodly company
assembled at the inn at ancy le fbanc, and- of their
eefbeshing and ingenious conversation j with other
matters.
Flashing lights, a benevolent landlady, an alacritous boy-
waiter, a cheerful room with a fire blazing in no time, a
basin of soup, a famous beefsteak, with fried potatoes, a
bottle of Burgundy, and some hot brandy-and-water, all
these things greeted our two half desperate adventurers on
their arrival at the Hotel du Lion d'Or, at the town of
Tonnerre.
Before attending to any of his own comforts, Mr. Fudge,
as the reader will expect, proceeded at once to the stable,
that he might see what sort of provision was made there
for those of the exhausted Blinkers; Mr. Fudge was, in
fact, not a little anxious to see how far this excellent animal
was knocked up by the day's journey. The horse's first
act on getting into his stall, where a very comfortable bed was
made up for him, was to give way to a series of the most
terrific yawns. Having relieved himself in this way, he
began to look about him, and to thrust his soft nose into
the manger, nibbling at such grains and such scraps of
clover-tops as happened to be lying perdu in that recep-
tacle.  If he can eat, he is all right, thought Mr. Fudge
to himself, and he gave directions for the administering of
half a feed of oats at once.
As soon as the first rattle of the grain was heard in the
COMFORTABLE QUARTERS.
sieve, Mr. Fudge ceased to be apprehensive on the subject
of the' little horse, who pricked: up bis- ears, turned his head
an the direction from which this appetizing sound came,
-and gave vent to a kind of snorting neigh, which proved
his appetite to be in good condition. Mr. Fudge stayed to
see him ram his nose into the oats as soon as they were
placed in the manger, and then, quite satisfied with the
energy of his attack upon his supper, left him to look after
his own.
In spite of the favourable report which Mr. Fudge was
.able to give of the little horse's appetite, it was decided by
the two friends over their evening meal, that he should
have a day's rest at Tonnerre, and that on the succeeding
day hie forces should only be taxed to the extent of a short
course to the neighboriring town of Ancy le Franc. It is
only justice to both Mr. Fudge and his friend to mention
here, that in coming to this decision, they were neither of
them influenced by the chance circumstance of their having
got into one of the best inns they had yet met with.
That it was so there eould be no doubt. The manage-
ment of the Lion d'Or was, according to our usual audio-
rity on these matters, Mr. Pinchbold, in the hands of a
sort of commonwealth of old women, all of the most singular
-amiability, all anxious for the well-being of our travellers,
and-, what is more remarkable, all on strange terms of
politeness' and' affection with each ether, so that amicable
contests would arise between them for the more arduous
undertakings in connexion with the liouse-service, and
brooms and slop-pails were almost fought for by these
benevolent old ladies, in their longing to save each other
trouble. Mr. Pinchbold speaks further of an ostler with a
moustache, and a boy with red hair, who sang while he
waited at table.
Of his bed-room the same gentleman says, that it  was
.a room with a welcome in it. A room containing old-
fashioned arm-chairs and a sofa covered with red velvet
.ornamented with gold-eoloured stars. His bed was cur-
344
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
tained with the same material. A large square table was
made use of as a washing-stand. The walls were decorated
with a single print, a lithograph, highly coloured, and
representing the interior of a clean blacksmith's shop.  A
child, says Mr. P.,  is mounted on a stool, hammering at
the anvil, while a ferocious, but scrupulously clean black-
smith is demonstrating with both hands, to a maiden with
a basket on her arm, who is sulkily turning away from
him. Inscribed underneath is the legend, ' a forger on
devrient forgeron,' or, as it may be literally translated, 'by
blacksmithing one becomes a blacksmith.' 
In these comfortable quarters—for no doubt Mr. Fudge's
room was in all points as satisfactory as his companion's—
our two friends passed two nights and a day pleasantly
enough. Tonnerre, the town whose very name, as it
appeared on the map, had struck Mr. Pinchbold with
horror, as suggestive of so wild and terrible a place, turned
out to be one of the most cheerful spots which the travellers
had yet visited. It was a picturesque, irregularly built
old town, with a church perched up upon a very steep hill
in the middle of it, and accessible by flights of broad flat
steps. From the terrace heights round about the church,
you could see a wide extent of prospect, stretching away
over the vine-covered flats to where, in the extreme dis-
tance, the boundary of the Cote d'Or marked the entrance
to the fair domains of the Burgundy country proper.
The company assembled at table at the Lion d'Or was
the most agreeable which our two friends had yet encoun-
tered. The conversation was well sustained and full of
interest. There was one person who appeared at the
dinner who was rendered remarkable solely by his personal
appearance. He was a man of perfectly enormous stature,
and with the cranium of a colossus. There was a curious.
resemblance in this gentleman's head to that of Sir Walter
Scott, and altogether he was so unlike a Frenchman, and
so essentially British in his appearance, that our two
Englishmen felt almost as if they were associating with a
TONNERRE.
345
countryman. With this gentleman, and a certain very
pleasant Burgundian who sat next him, Mr. Fudge and
his companion had a good deal of conversation ; the talk
being naturally about the neighbouring country, and the
road which the travellers were to take in order to get to
Dijon, the capital of the Cote d'Or, and the next important
stage in their journey. As far as Montbard, the route by
Ancy le Franc was simple enough, but after this point it
appeared that there were two roads; one that lay along
the valleys by Vitteaux, which had the advantage of being
the best road as well as the flattest; the other on the heights
by Chanceaux and St. Seine, a toilsome, deserted road, but
passing through some wonderful scenery, and especially
through what both the colossal gentleman and the Bur-
gundian pronounced to be a kind of miniature Switzerland
—the Yal de Suzon. Neither of these gentlemen had much
to say about the inns which the travellers were likely to
meet with.
 It is a deserted road, said the tall man;  scarcely
any one ever passes there, and you must not expect great
things.
Mr. Pinchbold having gained some further information,
by which he learned to his inexpressible horror that the
country they were going through was still supplied with a
good sprinkling of wolves, foxes, and wild boars, our
travellers were now left to mature their plans, and to decide
between the respective attractions of the upper and lower
route.
At Tonnerre, in rejoining the high road to Dijon, our
travellers had once again come up with the military. The
officers were, however, located at another hotel, for Tonnerre
boasted two inns, and did not this time monopolize, as on
other occasions, all the attention and all the beds.
The old sad tune broke upon the ears of Mr. Fudge as
he woke on the morning when he and his friend were to
leave Tonnerre. The troops were again forming in the
dark, and again as they marched away that plaintive air
346
A CRUISE UPON 'WHEELS.
became fainter and more faint, till at last both it and the
long tramp of feet that accompanied it died altogether away
in the distance.
It was a rainy morning; so, as the shortness of the
journey to Ancy le Franc did not render a midday rest
necessary, our travellers decided to wait till the afternoon
on the chance of the weather clearing up. The chance was
favourable to them, and when at about one o'clock they
drove—after quite a tender parting with the commonwealth
of old ladies in the inn kitchen—out of the gates of the
Lion d'Or, the sun was glittering on the wet roadway, and
in the diamond drops which ornamented every leaf and
every blade of grass.
The country, rich and cultivated, showed after that re-
freshing rain but few signs of the approach, or rather the
presence, of autumn. It was now the 12th of October.
They had left Paris on the 2nd, and on reaching Ancy le
Franc would have travelled two hundred kilometres, or
something like one hundred and fifty miles. That Blinkers
could work was now obvious. The rest of the previous
day had quite counteracted the effects of the long and
arduous course from Auxerre; and as this drive from
Tonnerre to Ancy was only an affair of about fifteen miles,
he might almost be considered to be enjoying two days'
rest consecutively. The next day they would make for
Montbard, and there rest for the Sunday, and perhaps for
the Monday as well.
It was quite early in the afternoon, when from the top
of a little hill which our travellers had been ascending
leisurely, they came in sight of the little town of Ancy le
Franc, and it was only about four o'clock when they drove
up to the door of the Hotel de la Poste, which stood at the
entrance of the one long street of which this small bouxg
consisted.
Here the military appeared again in such force that Mr;
Fudge and his friend were fain to be satisfied with one,
room between them, and even to be glad to get that. It
ANCY LE FEAEC.
847
■was a long room of a dismal and bare kind, with two beds
against the wall, and with no prints, pictures, or other
ornaments of any kind. The inn itself was conducted by
a gentleman who, officiating as his own chef de cuisine,
appeared in the regular white costume of a cook, and re-
eeived our travellers in the kitchen, which was indeed the
entrance hall to the inn, and through which the only way
of access to the upper rooms lay. He was quite a young
man, and had spent all the early part of his life in the
Highlands, where he bad been head cook to a certain
Scotch nobleman. His father had been originally the
proprietor of this inn, but at his death the son had been
obliged to resign his brilliant career in the household of
the Scotch peer, and return to the obseurity of his native
town.
The worthy artist pined, however, in secret, as he avowed
to Mr. Pinchbold, while he was preparing the dinner, for
his old life.  The charming grounds where he could
wander unmolested, the shooting, of which he was passion-
ately fond, the society understanding and entering into his
laboursall these things he regretted profoundly, and all
these things were brought back to his memory by so un-
usual a circumstance as the arrival of a couple of English-
men at the obscure little town of Ancy le Franc.
Leaving this worthy gentleman in the agonies of compo-
sition, or, in other words, in the very crisis of an omlette,
Mr. Fudge and his friend went out for a ramble, and
turned into the deserted grounds of the old chateau which
is the chief feature of the town.
 Si omnes ego non, was the independent motto stuck
all over the old chateau, which was an old and square
building with four grey turrets, one at each of its corners,
and standing in a neglected, melancholy park, about which
our Englishmen wandered till it was time to get back to
the inn for dinner.
This was served in a small room, the officers having
secured the largest in the inn for their mess. The meal
34<8
A CRUISE Ul'ON WHEELS.
consisted of exactly the same viands as those of which our
travellers had partaken the day before at Tonnerre, which,
in turn, was in no point different from the dinner at
Auxerre which has been already described. The com-
pany was made up principally, as usual, of commis-voya-
geurs. One of these, a young man, sat at the head of the
table; another, also a young man, sat next him ; a third,
a man like the first Napoleon, with his hair combed over
his forehead, with a cunning look, and a habit of bursting
into unhallowed fits of laughter, came next: and next him
Avas a fourth commercial traveller of a different type, a man
aiming at more refinement than the rest, and more ready
to talk on general subjects. The remaining seats were
filled by Messrs. Fudge and Pinchbold, and by an old and'
agreeable gentleman, a native of Burgundy, and his son, a
full-grown young man of two or three and twenty, but who
was treated by his father, and who had got to regard him-
self, as a very young boy. It Avas, for the rest, a talkative
assembly, but the most talkative member of it was the
young man who has been described as sitting next to him
at the head of the table. This personage was discoursing
to the company generally when our travellers entered the
room and took their seats at table.
 Conceive, gentlemen, my sensations. I was going to
the shop of la mere Regnard, who has, you know, dealings
Avith our house, when suddenly (it being pitch dark at the
time) the earth seemed to open under my feet, and I fell.
 A fall in candles! remarked the Napoleonic man,
alluding, it must be supposed, to the peculiar branch of
commerce represented by the speaker.
 In these small toAvns, continued the relater of this
anecdote,  there is no safety in walking after dark. (Mr.
Pinchbold pricked up his ears.)  The entrances to the
cellars are left open continually, there are no lights, and
doAvn you go.
At this explanation of the exact nature of the dangers of
TABLE TALK.
349
going out after nightfall in an obscure French town, Mr.
Pinchbold seemed rather disappointed.
 Where did you fall, sir ? he inquired.
 On my stomach, was the answer. At this the Napo-
leonic man burst into a perfect tempest of laughter.
 There is nothing to laugh at, began the first speaker
again.
 My boy would like some more bread, Louise, said
the old Burgundian at this moment to the waiting-maid,
who had just entered with a dish.
 Ah, Louise, you would not have laughed if I had been
killed ! continued the commis-voyageur.
Louise, a hideous woman of about fifty, took no further
notice of this remark than to intimate that she should not
have cried.
 How should I have shown you my regard ? the nar-
rator went on, in a bombastic style.  I would have left
you my horse.
 What a legacy ! Why, it has but three legs and a
half.
 Two and a halfi
 One and a half.
"An eye and a half.
 Four teeth.
 Each four inches long with age.
 The flaccid lips.
 The long and pendant ears.
 Gentlemen, gentlemen, leave my horse alone, broke
in the owner of the animal, who had been the subject of
these remarks; they had emanated from the Napoleonic
man and the- young man at the head of the table.
 Ah, monsieur, said the old Burgundian, interposing,
 what you say of the state of these small provincial towns
is but too true ; my boy here had just such a fall as you
describe, only the other day.
 He was running after his hoop, doubtless, remarked
350
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
the Napoleonic man in an undertone to Mr. Pinchbold,
who was seated next him.
 Say what you will, gentlemen, continued the original
speaker,  my situation was terrible. My respiration was
stopped short, my brain confused.
 That I believe, at any rate, remarked .the satirist.
 My voice gone.
 No!
"Yes. My voice gone so that I could not call for
assistance. If the Mama Kegnard had not come out with a
light to go to her cellar, I might have been lying across the
entrance to it at this moment. It should be compulsory
with the authorities of these small towns to light them.
"With candles, suggested the Napoleonic man, still
aiming at the nature of the other's commercial dealings.
 No, with brown sugar, retorts the talkative gentleman.
 With tallow wicks, replied the other.
Such mutual badinage as this, of which a small specimen
is here given, would go on uninterruptedly for perhaps half
an hour, by which time the conversation, however, would
have touched all sorts of other topics. But the strangest
thing, and by this both our travellers were much struck,
was the manner in which all these persons steered clear of
all political or even public topics of discussion. And this
was always so. The name of the Emperor, or of any
person high in authority, was never mentioned in the
society in which Mr. Fudge and his friend found them-
selves. The nearest approach to politics which had
occurred, indeed, in any conversation to which they had
listened, or in which they had been mixed up, was on this
very occasion of the dinner at Ancy le Franc, when some
recent proceedings of M. de Montalembert were for a
moment made the subject of discussion, and the religious
opinions of that statesman were brought upon the tapis
rather lightly.
It was thus that the particular commercial gentleman of
whom mention has been made as of a man aiming at a
TABLE TALK.
35i
greater degree of intellectual refinement than his compeers,
burst out suddenly into a torrent of eloquence, in defence
of M. de Montalembert and his opinions.
 Hold, gentlemen, he cried, after sitting silent all
through the previous conversation;  hold, you are not to
suppose that the ages of Faith are dead. It may be that
you individually, or you, or you, are destitute of reverence
for the Church, and that you find a satisfaction in insulting
its ministers, and disparaging its ceremonial. But you
must not suppose that every one else is equally deficient in
faith, or that the Church and its sacred Head can be thus
lightly spoken of. Such a spirit as this is much abroad,
but still there are, happily, some few left with whom time
makes no difference, and for whom the scoffing intellec-
tualities of the multitude are as unreal and untrue as the
ages of Faith are true and real.
Strange words these for a bagman to utter, and such as
you would be little likely to hear in the commercial-room
of an English inn. In fact, these French travellers
presented altogether about as strong a contrast to our own
English  baggies as could well be, though doubtless they
would be just as sharp bands at a bargain as our own
countrymen, and, perhaps, even a little sharper.
This burst of eloquence put quite a stop to any further
discussion, and soon after it the party broke up. The
talkative  commercial who had sustained the accident,
repairing to his room to compose a letter detailing the
particulars of it, which letter the old Burgundian pledged
himself to see despatched next morning to the mayor of the
town. Messrs. Fudge and Pinchbold saw the letter next
morning lying in the kitchen ready for the Mayor's perusal,
but whether it ever reached that potentate's eyes, or
whether, if it did, any steps were taken in consequence of
its reception, are questions which we are unhappily not in
a position to answer. As far, however, as the opinion of
the writer of this History goes, he does not mind saying
that he has little doubt that the facilities for tumbling into
352 A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
Madame Eegnard's cellar are as great at this moment as
they ever were, and that the streets of Ancy le Franc are
as dark as tfc&y were before this important memorial was
drawn up.
With the exception of the Napoleonic man, who was up
and dressed in a blue blouse and ready to be off, our tra-
vellers started next morning before any of the other guests
at the table d'hote were afoot. The whole staff of the inn,
including a very cross matron who presided over a waiteress
belonging to our favourite order of  the good-natured
wenches, a sulky ostler, and the great chef himself, as-
sembled to see the Englishmen off, the master of the hotel
seeming to regard their departure as the withdrawal of the
last link that bound him to the glorious memories of his
career as cordon bleu to the Scotch milord.
A pleasant morning's drive through a pretty country
brought our two friends, about midday, to Aisy, where
they were to rest. The auberge to which they had been
directed was a miserable place, and the room into which
they were shown as a scille-d-manger was accessible only
by a sort of ladder outside the house. Once attained, it
turned out to be nothing, after all, but a bedroom. A
couple of beds were let into recesses in the wall like berths,
and contrasted singularly enough with two long deal tables
ranged on trestles down the length of the room, and in-
tended, obviously enough, to serve the purpose of dining-
tables.
The garijon, who acted as waiter, ostler, barman, and
bed-maker, and who had shown such a total incapacity for
one of these branches of utility, that Mr. Pudge was obliged
to unharness Blinkers himself—this youth, after piloting
Mr. Fudge and his friend up the ladder, began to apologize
for the disorder of the apartment which has just been
described by saying that it had only just been evacuated
by the military. The officers, he said, with great pride,
had been taking their breakfast there, and had eaten up
everything in the house.
AISY.
35$
It was at such times as these, when the inevitable
omelette, that refuge for the destitute abroad, was in pre-
paration, that Mr. Pinchbold would be seized with the
most deadly yearnings for English cookery, and would be'
driven desperate by some such visions as haunt the seaman
who is suffering from calenture—Mr. Pinchbold's visions^
however, being not of green fields and English homesteads^
but of smoking and judiciously roasted legs of mutton, and
decanters of amber-coloured sherry. The fact is, that th©
incessant civets de lievre, and the rich bilious wines of thb
Burgundy country which they were now drinking, wera
beginning to tell upon the worthy gentleman's digestive?
powers, and hence his longings for the mutton and sherry
of his native land.
This sojourn at Aisy was certainly not altogether satis-
factory. The cold was intense, and the rain so obviously
threatening, that it was impossible to stir any distance from
the auberge, where the only asylum was a room with two>
unmade beds in it, and a soldier and a friend with a gun-,
both in the noisy stage of intoxication, and both drinking
coffee mixed with brandy by way of sobering themselves-,.
These two gentlemen took themselves off, however, at last,
after rendering Mr. Pinchbold extremely uneasy by a long
whispered conversation, of which he and his friend appeared
to be the subjects. They were also kind enough, before
leaving the inn-yard, to favour the carriole as it stood there
with a prolonged and careful inspection, both outside and
in. Indeed, there is every reason to suppose that they
would have got into it to facilitate their inspection, if
Mazard, who had been left in charge asleep, had not
suddenly sprung out from his lair and saluted them with
a volley of barks of such a terrific nature, that th©
soldier and his sporting friend, gun in hand, were glad to
beat a speedy retreat, leaving no doubt whatever on the
mind of Mr. Pinchbold that they were going to an ambush
on the Montbard road, from which they would fire when the
A A
354
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
carriole passed, and make an end of its occupants with a
single discharge of musketry.
The weather was now not long in declaring its intentions,
and by the time when it was desirable to start, the rain was
descending in torrents. Blinkers, too, was in a singularly
bad humour at being taken out of his stable, and just as he
was being put into the carriole, and before the harnessing
was completed, bolted suddenly off as he had done at Wille-
neuve, with one of the shafts dragging on the ground.
This time Mr. Fudge was at his head, and the ground
luckily ascending instead of descending, he was able to bring
him up sooner than on the previous occasion, but not till
-all the breath was out of his body, and one of his arms nearly
dragged out of its socket.
Toothing that can be imagined eould exceed the gloom of
that afternoon's drive. A continuous down-pour of rain,
a perfectly straight road, a row of poplars on either side of
it, and beyond one of these rows of poplars a perfectly
straight canal, running for miles and miles parallel with the
road. At length it bent suddenly to the right, and, crossing
the canal, took a different direction.
And now our travellers found themselves with a much
worse neighbour than the canal—the road which had
before been parallel with this dismal but inoffensive water-
course, running now side by side with the railroad, and
that at a distance sometimes of a dozen yards, sometimes as
many feet only, and sometimes so close that the embank-
ment on which the railway was made formed one side of the
carriage-road. As far as Mr. Fudge and his friend could
see, the two roads ran thus for a considerable distance.
 What a tremendous state of things, said Mr. Pinch-
bold, as he first noticed the proximity of the railway to
their route, a circumstance which Blinkers, to judge by his
erect ears and raised head, was also making his own obsex-
vations upon.  If we were to meet a train now, con-
tinued Mr. Pinchbold,  what would become of us ?
The words were scarcely out of his lips, when a low,
A DANGEROUS NEIGHBOUR.
355
faint whistle became distinctly audible; and at the same
time Mr. Pinehbold thought he could perceive, over the
tops of some trees, at a considerable distance, certain small
floating masses of white smoke. It was probable a train
was coming to meet them. Immediately by the side of
the road, and up on the top of that high enbankment, the
effect would be terrific.
Mr. Fudge lost no time in adopting the only course that
seemed left. He instantly pulled up, and putting the
horse's head the other way, proceeded at a gentle pace to
retrace his steps. He had hardly done this when a tremen-
dous noise behind, and a shaking sensation, communicated,
as it seemed, to both earth and air at once, announced that
the train was upon them. It was well they had turned.
Even as it was, Blinkers, as soon as he heard the noise
behind him, began to bolt forward, and to plunge and
swerve in a very unpleasant manner, while directly the
train had rushed past, and came within his range of vision,
he became still more riotous and difficult to control. The
travellers had retraced their steps a considerable distance
before Mr. Fudge was able to bring him back to order, and
turning round again, to make once more for their destination.
It is a grave question whether such proximity of the
railroad to the carriage-road as this should be allowed
The railway must of necessity go under the high-road, and
over it, and at times parallel with it, for considerable
distances, but ought there not to be some limit to the
nearness of the two parallel lines ? In France, some of the
railways have been allowed to run for miles alongside the
post-roads, with nothing but a railing three feet high
between them. It is impossible for any one who has not
tried it to imagine the effect of meeting an express-train
under such circumstances, with half-a-dozen yards only
between that tearing mass of noise and fire and speed, and
your horse's blinkers. The space of a hundred yards,
Avhich is little enough in all conscience, would make all the
difference.
356
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
Mr. Fudge and his friend were not sorry when, after
driving about a couple of miles, they came to a place where
a grove of trees interposed between them and the railroad,
and as these two rival highways did not again come in
contact between that point and Montbard, they drove into
that town without any further inconvenience.
357
CHAPTER XXL
devoted to A certain episode in the life OF mr. eancis
pinohbold. in fact, in this chapter the reader will hear
how that gentleman fell in love in a vert ridiculous
manner, and how he was rudely awakened from a vert
foolish dream.
Little did Mr. Pinchbold imagine, when he and his friend
drove into Montbard, that his two days' residence in that
small and savage town was to be characterized by circum-
stances fraught with danger to his peace of mind.
The Hotel de la Poste is not in the town of Montbard.
It is a grim and deserted-looking inn, standing in a remote
spot, with a great barren tract of ground in front of it,
unenclosed, except on two sides by the inn and its stables.
On this tract of ground, swampy with the recent rain, a
tew carriers' carts were standing when our travellers
arrived, but the horses were taken out, and there were no
signs of life about the place. As soon, however, as they
had reached the door, the master of the inn appeared at the
top of the flight of steps which gave access to it. He was
joined, after he had called several times for him by name,
by the ostler, who seemed to have been recently allaying
his thirst, and that not with water.
The landlord led the way through the kitchen, where
his wife was engaged in preparing the dinner, to the stair-
case, and ascending it, showed the travellers to their rooms.
There appeared, from the choice, to be no one in the inn,
the military, who were still on the road, being lodged at
the Hotel de l'Ecu, the opposition house of entertainment,
358
A CRUISE TTEOlSr WHEELS.
the other side of the town. The landlord, who himself
showed the two friends into their rooms, was a dry, wizen,
depressed-looking man, with a wasted, passionate-looking
face, and a dissipated air, and not in dress or person looking
the least like an innkeeper. He did not appear more than
forty years of age.
When Mr. Pinchbold was left in his room he was a good
deal struck by a certain air of refinement, almost of luxury,
about it, which was very different from what he and his
friend had met with elsewhere in their journey. The bed
was covered with a sort of counterpane of lace thrown over
everything; there was lace on the bed-curtains. Easy
chairs were standing about the room, and there was quite
a luxurious walnut-wood and marble lavabo, or washing-
stand. Tire room was at a corner of the house, and two of
its walls were pierced with windows ; on one of the other
walls hung a couple of water-colour drawings, of the same
subject—a girl, afflicted with paralysis from her infancy,
scattering grain to some circular patches of yellow, which
may be supposed to have indicated poultry. Each of these-
drawings claimed to be the copy, as each seemed^ on con-
sideration, curiously enough, to be the worst of the two.
There was an immense cupboard in the room; and when
Mr. Pinchbold opened it—which of course he was not long
in doing—he found there additional confirmation of what
had struck him in noticing the drawings just mentioned,
and in observing certain little nick-nacks about the room.
It had struck Mr. Pinchbold that a female influence per-
vaded the place; and when he opened the door of the
cupboard, which was, in truth, a long and dark passage
used as a kind of lumber-room, and saw a great many
dresses, and a steel hoop, hanging there on pegs, he felt
convinced that the hypothesis he had formed was a true-
one.
At the other end of this passage from that by which Mr.
Pinchbold had entered it, there was another door, and as
Mr. Pinchbold advanced into the closet to scrutinize its
MR. PINCHBOLD RALLS IN LOYE. 359*
contents, this door opened, and our Englishman found
himself face to face with a very pretty young French girl.
At sight of Mr. Pinchbold the young lady muttered
something about coming for her dresses, and instantly drew
back towards the door by which she had entered; while
Mr. Pinchbold, whose courtesy and respect for the softer
sex was only equalled by his profound devotion, muttered,
in his turn, a string of apologies, and fled into his bedroom
with all the speed he could command. Mazard, who evi-
dently considered the cupboard as Mr. Pinchbold's, had
resented the intrusion of the young lady with a volley of
barks ; and the closet was yet ringing with these, and Mr.
Pinchbold was just emerging from its door, when he en-
countered Mr. Fudge, who had come to fetch him, that
they might go out together and see the town.
 Such a beautiful creature! said Mr. Pinchbold,.
speaking under his breath.
 What,- in the cupboard asked Mr. Fudge.
 Who can she possibly be ? continued Mr. Pinchbold,.
though more as if talking to himself than addressing his
companion.
As the two friends passed down the stairs, and through
the kitchen, on their way out, Mr. Pinchbold looked
eagerly about him in hopes of a reappearance of the vision
of the cupboard; but the young lady was nowhere to be
seen. Our Englishman fancied, however, that when he
looked back at the inn, as they were walking away from
it, he saw a female form at one of the windows, and that it
vanished at the moment of his turning to look at it. During
the walk that ensued, Mr. Pinchbold was rather a silent
companion. He and his friend wandered for an hour or
two in the drizzling rain about that dismal old town of
Montbard, the birthplace of the renowned BufFon. The
town is piled up the sides of a steep hill, which you ascend
by all sorts of queer steps and steep walks. At the top of
all is the church, and by its side, on a sort of platform,
from which you get a fine view of the distant country, is a
860
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
bronze statue of Buffon, of which, as is the case with most
statues, there is nothing at all to be said. It is a pity that
some form of monument cannot be invented which should
rather commemorate the thing for which the man to whom
it is raised was celebrated, than attempt to give a likeness
pf the great personage himself. Some individual of the
brute creation would have been a good substitute at this
place for the Buffon figure. While in our own town, a
sword placed on a pedsstal, in a conspicuous position, to
the memory of Havelock, or a bronze Act of Parliament to
that of the late Sir E. Peel, would save us much misery
and some expense. The chateau of Buffon, in its grounds
of ruined and broken terraces, is a conspicuous and delight-
ful feature of Montbard ; the whole is in strict unison with
the intense melancholy, and even wildness, which pervades
the town. At no place were our travellers more merci-
lessly stared at; at no place did they meet with more mud;
and nowhere a more ill-kept and neglected town.
Every one of the dresses, and the steel petticoat of course,
had disappeared out of Mr. Pinchbold's cupboard when
that gentleman got back to his room, but in compensation
a nosegay of such poor flowers as late October can afford
.occupied the middle of his table, and completed the decora-
tion of the room. Mr. Pinchbold was keenly grateful for
this little attention, and occupied himself in trying to extract
some perfume from this small collection of chrysanthemums
till it was time to descend to the salle-a-manger.
Having inquired his way in the kitchen, Mr. Pinchbold
was directed to a door exactly opposite to him. It intro-
duced him into a large and somewhat bare-looking apart-
pient. At the furthest end of it from that by which Mr.
Pinchbold entered, a small round table was spread with a
cloth, knives and forks, and all the requisites for dinner.
A moderator lamp was burning in the middle of the table,
which was drawn up close to a blazing wood fire, which
the cold and damp of the evening made very acceptable.
A female figure was seated by the fire. She was engaged
MR. PINCHBOLD GETS WORSE.
361
in reading, but rose hastily on Mr. Pinclibold's entering,
and placing her book on the chimney-piece, withdrew by
another door. Not, however, before our Englishman had
recognised in her the young lady of the cupboard.
Mr. Pinchbold went at once to the chimney-piece and
took up the book which the young lady had just deposited
there. It was a French novel, and as far as Mr. P. could
perceive, one of the most dangerous of its class; one of
those which treats of the gay life of the capital, the history
of a young man's adventures there; a work in which the
existence of any such hampering restraints as conscience or
principle is wholly ignored, and in which it is shown
lucidly enough what a very jolly life may be led by those
who have shaken off these fettering restrictions on their
conduct.
When Mr. Fudge entered the salle-a-manger, he found
Mr. Pinchbold standing with this volume in his hand,
holding it as Hamlet does the skull in the grave-scene, and
looking up at the ceiling immersed in thought. He was,
however, promptly brought down to the affairs of the
present by no less important an occurrence than the entry
of the young lady who was the subject of his meditation.
She came in with a large tureen in her hand, and placing it
on the table, announced that the dinner was served.
Her position there was now tolerably certain. She was
not a guest staying in the house, but rather part of its
establishment, probably the daughter of the landlord. A
slight resemblance to that functionary confirmed this
impression, which was speedily turned into a certainty
when, in the course of dinner, she said that she would ask
her mother for some article which one of our Englishmen
required.
France is not a land of beauty. Since Mr. Fudge and
his friend had entered the country at Calais, till the time
of their arrival at Montbard, they had not seen one woman
whose looks could for one moment bear comparison with
those of the innkeeper's daughter of Montbard. Indeed,
568
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
her beauty was such that it might have borne almost any
comparison that could be applied to it. The girl was in
truth very pretty, and had a singularly graceful carriage
and a pleasant manner which gave increased effect to her
charms. Mr. Fudge professed himself quite ready to
indorse Mr. Pinchbold's opinions on the subject of this
young lady's powers of fascination, while, as for Mr. Pinch-
bold himself, there were positively no limits whatever to
his boundless admiration.
 I can scarcely conceive, said Mr. Fudge, as the inn-
keeper's daughter left the room, after placing on table the
last dish of a most excellent dinner,  I can scarcely con-
ceive a more dangerous position than that occupied by this
girl. She has evidently been sent by her parents to some
school where she has imbibed tastes far above her rank.
Such a girl as that comes back to her home finding it
utterly distasteful to her, and all the companions among
whom she finds herself seem coarse and vulgar. She feels
already that she is ' not understood,' despises all those about
her, and tums for refuge to the pages of such a book as this
romance, which doubtless some commi s-voyageur has left
here for her edification.
So saying, Mr. Fudge rose from table, and lighting his
lantern betook himself to the stable, where it waS his custom
in the evening to spend some time in watching Blinkers at
his meal, and in extracting such information as he eould
get on the subject of the road from the ostler and any of
his friends who might be hanging about looking at the
horses.
As for Mr. Pinchbold, he remained where he was, by
the fire, and taking up the novel to which allusion' has
already been made, he proceeded to dip into it. "While
thus engaged, who should come into the room but the
young lady to whom the book belonged, and this being so,
of course nothing could be more natural than for Mr.
Pinchbold to apologize for the liberty he had taken in
MB. PINCHBOLD IN LOVE.
303
reading the volume without leave. Of course, when Mr.
Pinchbold apologized for reading the French novel, the
young lady, whose name was Mademoiselle Louise, could
not say less than that it was at Mr. Pinchbold's service.
After which, Mr. Pinchbold in turn could not say less than
that he was very much obliged to her. The ice being thus
broken, and the clearing away of the dinner things occupying
a considerable time, it was only to be supposed that a brisk
conversation should take place between Mr. Pinchbold and
the innkeeper's daughter. At all events it was so. Taking
the book as a point to depart from, it was not long before
the conversation branched off into other channels, and it
was not long, also, before our Englishman was possessed
of the leading circumstances of this young lady's history,
all of which corresponded exactly with what Mr. Fudge
had said but a very few minutes before.
Mr. Pinchbold was profoundly interested. When the
last crumb had been cleared away, and new logs placed on
the fire, so that it became impossible to protract the con-
versation with Mademoiselle Louise any longer, Mr. Pinch-
bold felt so distracted at the idea that the interview was at
an end, that he was obliged to have recourse to a system of
giving orders for things which he did not want, which
threatened to be alike ruinous to his purse and his consti-
tution. A glass of cassis, a plate of sweet biscuits, a cup
of black coffee, and a chasse of brandy after it, all these
things were demanded by this desperate character in his
dread of losing sight of Mademoiselle Louise, and it is not
improbable that if Mr. Fudge had not returned just as his
friend was engaged with the last-mentioned beverage, that
gentleman would before long have given an order for an
elaborate supper in his anxiety to prolong the conversation
in which his soul delighted. Mr. Pinchbold was too full
of his subject to keep off it, though it must be owned that
he approached it in rather a roundabout way.
 A man might be very happy living in a place like
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
this, said Mr. Pinchbold, standing before the fire, and
speaking in the uneasy tone of a man who is not quite
convinced of the truth of what he asserts.
"In a place like Montbard? Mr. Fudge replied, doubt-
fully.
 Away, continued his friend,  from all the contemp-
tible follies of the world. Why might not a man, convinced
that he was buying society too dear, at the expense of all
the aggravation, the humiliations, and the sacrifices which
it calls for—why might he not retire to a place like this ?
marry a—a—
"Marry an innkeeper's daughter? suggested Mr. Fudge;
 you're getting on rather fast.
 I say nothing about an innkeeper's daughter, Fudge.
What I do say is, that I am sick of society; that I think
the great object of its votaries is to make each other un-
comfortable; that I see nothing genuine or real about it
except the desire of every one of its members to advance
his own interests; to be civil—no, not civil, sycophantic—-
to those by whom such interests can be forwarded, and
brutal to all the rest of the world. I see self-assertion and
insolence rewarded by deference and esteem, I see money
openly adored, I see vice forgiven if it is gilded with
success, and virtue put down if it shows in a seedy
coat 
 I see all these things, too, replied Mr. Fudge,  and
have done for years, but still I don't think it is a good
thing for a man to live out of the world. I have tried it
as you know more than once, and have never found it
answer. A man gets too much absorbed in his own affairs,
and in all sorts of trifles, so that at last he gets miserable if
there is a rise of two centimes in eggs, or if the wind
happens to set the wrong way when he is taking his cus-
tomary walk.
The conversation was interrupted at this point by the
entrance of the landlord, who came to know whether the.
travellers wished to be called early on the following
MR. PINCHBOLD TN LOVE.
365
morning. As the next day was Sunday he was informed
that this would not be necessary. This good gentleman
redoubled in civility when he heard that it was the inten-
tion of our two Englishmen to spend the following day at
his house. It was seldom, he said, that any travellers
appeared on that road, but Englishmen scarcely ever.
The town, the inns, everything had been spoilt by the
railroad. At the great junction towns, such as Dijon,
Macon, and Lyons, it was different. Those towns were
benefited, but the smaller ones might be made a clean
sweep of, and it would not matter much.
Some talk followed, as Mr. Fudge took his brandy-and-
water, on the state of the road between Montbard and
Dijon. It was corroborative of what the travellers had
heard already. The upper road was full of picturesque
beauties, but a bad road, almost precipitously hilly, and
somewhat hopeless in the matter of inns. The lower road
was better, but, for at least ten miles—as our two friends
now learnt for the first time—it ran side by side with the
railway, there being no intermediate space at all between
the two roads. A piece of intelligence which our two
Englishmen, remembering their horse's sentiments on the
subject of railway trains, received with rather long faces.
Indeed Mr. Pinchbold was understood to hint obscurely at
a theory which had entered his head, and the main drift of
which tended towards the cutting short of the journey at
the point which it had already reached; a prolonged resi-
dence in the town which had given birth to the great
Buffon, appearing to him likely to be productive of the
most beneficial results both to his fellow-traveller and him-
self. Mr. Fudge, however, did not seem to concur in these
sentiments.
Mr. Pinchbold's slumbers on the night of his arrival at
Montbard were much disturbed, though whether by reason
of the impression made on his too susceptible heart by the
charms of Mademoiselle Louise, or in consequence of the
cup of black coffee to which he was not accustomed, and
366
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
which he had imprudently swallowed, it is of course quite
impossible for the writer of these words to say. He was
astir early next morning, and down in the salle-cb-manger
before his more philosophical friend was out of bed.
If Mademoiselle Louise had appeared lovely the night
before, what was she in all the freshness of her morning
toilet, with a snowy apron and a little cap of inhuman
piquancy perched on her head, and simply tied with a
narrow blue ribbon? As she came backwards and for-
wards with the different articles necessary for the breakfast
of the two travellers, Mr. Pinchbold thought, and for aught
we know may have thought rightly too, that he had never
seen so bewitching a creature in his whole life, and his
views on the subject of a residence at Montbard became
even more strongly developed than they had been on the
previous evening.
 She is the most fascinating being I have ever beheld,'?
said Mr. Pinchbold, as he and Mr. Pudge took their places
at the breakfast table;  and her mind, he continued,
 is, as far as I can see, equal in delicacy and refinement to
her charming form.
"What, you have been talking to her, have you?
inquired Mr. Fudge. And with that he proceeded gravely
to take his friend to task : pointing out to him all the evil
results that accrue to a young and attractive girl from
being taken notice of by persons of a higher station than
her own. In short, Mr. Fudge read his friend quite a
grave lecture, and at every word he said Mr. Pinchbold
groaned his acknowledgment.
 But what am I to do ? cried the wretched little gentle-
man, in a frenzy of distress.  She's so intolerably lovely.
Hang me if I don't feel inclined to marry her !
 Come out, and let us look at the town again, said Mr.
Fudge.
It was a wretched day, but the two friends went forth
notwithstanding, and wandered for a time about the muddy
and bedraggled streets. They went into the church, where
HE BECOMES (JESUITICAL. Sftf
the congregation was shut into pews just as in a country
church in England, staring at the two intruders, too, just
as the worshippers in the chapel-of-ease at Torpor-cum-
Slugs would scrutinize a couple of strangers who might
venture among them.
It was a horrid town, but Mr. Pinchbold would by no
means admit that it was so. He said that the chateau of
Buffon was so interesting, that its grounds had such a-
haunted look, and were so mysteriously fascinating, that he
really did not know how to tear himself away. He even
went so far as to hint that he had observed symptoms of
great fatigue in Blinkers on the previous day, and that he
thought it would only be humane, at any rate, to give him
■a rest of two days instead of one.
It is distressing to relate, but truth compels us to do so,
that Mr. Pinchbold was in nowise influenced by the good
advice of his friend. On the contrary, he seemed to rush
more headlong into the jaws of danger than before. Pro-
ceeding on the plan of the previous evening, he spent the
whole day in giving orders for different articles of consump-
tion. Any person who had taken that day of Mr. Pinch-
hold's life as a specimen of his manners and customs,
would certainly have set him down, so frequent were his
calls for drink, as a gentleman on the high way to delirium
tremens. It is true that our worthy friend did not con-
sume all the liquor which he called for, and that a great
accumulation of bottles and glasses took place with very
little diminution of their contents.
By the time that Mr. Pinchbold had given all the orders
which his ingenuity was able to suggest, it suddenly entered
the head of this artful gentleman that the time had arrived
when he might turn the accomplishments of the faithful
Hazard to account; and accordingly the pastrycook's shop
was sent for, and Mademoiselle Louise was invited to attend
.and witness that commercial transaction between Mazard
and his master, of which full mention has already been
made in these pages.
368
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
But Mr. Pinchbold had reckoned in this case without his
host, and, to say the truth, without his hostess too ; for, to
his intense dismay, he found that both these worthy indi-
viduals had included themselves, or been included, in the
invitation which had been accorded to Mademoiselle Louise,
and were full as eager to see all that was to be seen as that
young lady herself. However, there was nothing to be
done but to put a good face upon it, so Mr. Pinchhold
opened his shop and commenced business at once.
It was at the very crisis of the performance that Mr.
Fudge, who had been engaged in ■writing letters, entered
the room. It must be owned that at this time the appear^
ance of Mr. Pinchbold savoured rather strongly of the
itinerant juggler. The aspect of the  shop  itself, of the
dog, and, above all, the extraordinary number of bottles
and glasses ranged upon the table—all these things tended
in a very marked manner to carry out this idea. -
At the moment of Mr. Fudge's entering the salle-ctn
manger, there drove up to the door of the inn a couple of
old-fashioned battered cabriolets, each drawn by a wild,
half-broken horse, of the kind called  percheron, and
almost before the wheels of these vehicles had ceased to
revolve, there dismounted three men of such enormous size
as really, without exaggeration, to deserve the name of
giants. As Mr. Fudge, attracted by the sound of wheels,
glanced from the window, it appeared to him that they
might rather be said to ascend than to descend from their
vehicles, such towering proportions did they disclose when
once out upon the ground.
The arrival of the giants put a period to Mr. Pinchbold's
performance. At the first sound of the wheels, the land-'
lady exclaimed  Les "Wilquin, and rushed out, followed
by her husband, to receive them, at the same time that
Mademoiselle Louise, whose countenance had been suffused
with blushes at the sound of the remarkable name just
mentioned, took flight by another door which led to the
NEW AltRIVALS.
369
garden. Shortly after  Les Wilquin  entered the room,
just as Mr. Pinchbold was in the act of shutting up shop.
The party described as  Les Wilquin — a name
obviousfy of Flemish origin—consisted, as has been said
above, of three persons. Two of them—they were
brothers—were men of the middle age, about fifty or fifty-
five years, though a rough life and much exposure to
weather caused them to wear an older appearance. They
may have stood about six feet seven inches in their stock-
irtgs, and though each had a considerable stoop about the
shoulders, it was evident that they were men who, indepen-
dently of their enormous height, rejoiced in great force of
bone and muscle. The third  Wilquin  was the nephew
of the other two, a young man of about five-and-twenty,
and who, though only standing about six feet three or four,
was yet so affected by, and imbued with the size of the
other two, that, seeing them all together, it was impossible
not to class them all in the same category, and look upon
him as a giant too. They were all clad in the inevitable
blue blouse of the French farmer, and belonged, in fact, to
that class, living all together—as Mr. Fudge learnt on
subsequent inquiry—at a small farm in the middle of a
lonely marsh, about seven miles distant from Montbard.
 Les Wilquin were all talking noisily when they
entered the salle-h-manger, and the effect altogether was
so overpowering, that Mr. Pinchbold, who had not seen
them dismount, and was unprepared, seemed absolutely to
collapse as he gazed upon them. It was evident that they
had it in contemplation to spend the whole evening at the
inn, as the landlord, who came into the room with them, was
heard to make especial allusion to the hour at which dinner
would be served.
To say that Mr. Pinchbold stared at  Les Wilquin
with an expression of blank amazement would be to give
but a small idea of the utter and bewildered astonishment
with which he surveyed the three giants, who in turn
B B
370
A CRUISE "UPON "WHEELS.
seemed disposed to look upon the existence of the excellent
Mr. P. as a total mistake and misunderstanding of her
business on the part of Nature. The glances interchanged
by Mr. Pinchbold and the nephew were especially tinctured
with distrust of the darkest nature.
It appeared that the present visit of the three giants to
the Hotel de la Poste had some business transaction or
other for its object; a long conversation, in the course of
which some treaty or arrangement, to which some member-
of the Wilquin family and the landlord were to be-parties,
ensuing and being noisily but rather unintelligibly disetissed
over the round table at which they were all seated. As the
conversation seemed-—like most other French conversations
—to be all about  francs, it was not very interesting to our
two Englishmen, and the weather having now cleared a
little, Mr. Pinchbold and his friend took the opportunity of
getting into the fresh air, both gentlemen feeling1 as1 if
the overpowering size of Les Wilquin had absolutely stiffed
them.
It was at this time that Mr. Pinchbold approached' onee-
more, in a wary manner, the question of another day's stay
at Montbard. He and his friend were in the stable, where
they had been looking at the horses of the giant brothers,,
a couple of wild and powerful beasts, of the unmanageable
French type. Mr. Pinchboldj who, it is distressing to'
relate, was becoming, under the influence of the tender-
passion, a perfect Machiavel of cunning, managed to turn
even the strength of these horses to his own account.
 Poor Blinkers 1 said this wily gentleman;  I wish we
could have the services of one of these brutes for a day or
two to relieve him.
 He is all right, said Mr. Fudge, as they moved
towards the other end of the stable where the little horse
was standing.
It happened, fortunately for Mr. Pinchbold's desires, tha#
at the time when they approached him, Blinkers wan
standing in an attitude of the profoundest and most abject
SAD TO EELATE.
37 i
• melancholy, with his head hanging down. Occasionally,
.too, he would slightly stamp upon the ground with his neai
hind leg, as if in some distress.
 He looks tired, remarked Sir. Pinchbold, as they stood
looking at him.
 Not a bit of it, replied his friend.  He is just
taking a thorough rest, and to-morrow will be as fresh as a
lark.
'• I don't like the way he is standing, continued the wily
Pinchbold;  isn't that hind leg a little swelled ?
Mr. Pudge passed his hand carefully down the limb in
question.
 Not in the slightest degree, was his answer.  The-
tendon is well separated, stands out as clear and firm as a
bowstring.
Mr. Pinchbold shook his head.
 He looks bad to me, he said.  I believe that another -
day's rest would be of the most essential service to him.
Mr. Pudge could not see it.  The season was getting
on, he said; "it was of the utmost importance, with so
large a portion of their journey yet before them, not to lose
a single day if they could help it.
To this Mr. Pinchbold replied,  That if the horse
knocked up, they would lose a great many more days, and
begged his friend to remember Bijou, and the time and
money they had lost through her lameness.
Now it is a very sad thing to relate, but it must be told
nevertheless (for is not this a chronicle of truth ?) that the
difference of opinion which arose between Mr. Fudge and
Mr. Pinchbold, on this question of the additional day's rest
at Montbard, did at last give rise to some words, spoken
with something of sharpness ; the first since the commence-
nient of their journey, if not the first since the earliest days
.of their long friendship.. Nor must we seek for a moment
to disguise the fact that our favourite, Pinchbold, was to
.blame in this matter. When Mr. Fudge taxed him, as he
did at last, with having a concealed motive for wishing to-'
B B 2
5372
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
stay at Montbard, and hinted that his desire to do so was
less attributable to a humane interest in Blinkers than to
another cause—when Mr. Fudge spoke thus, we are eon-
strained in fairness to acknowledge that he was fully
justified in what he said, just as we are compelled to own
that Mr. Pinchbold was acting in a most ridiculous manner
in falling head over heels in love with the prettiest girl he
had seen in the French dominions.
But, as we have said before, the truth must be told, arid
let us hope that the good points in Mr. Pinchbold's nature,
which were neither small nor few, may in some sort atone
for this his deplorable weakness and folly. Certain it is
that he was over head and ears in love, that he did not
like to own it, that he put his wish to see more of Made-
moiselle Louise upon a solicitude for the little horse's legs,
and that when he left Mr. Fudge in the stable of the inn,
the temper of the two friends towards each other Was of
anything but a satisfactory sort. And so, we find here a
new instance of a difference created between friends; a
want of straightforwardness generated in the character of
an estimable gentleman, and all sorts of mischief, unhappi-
ness, and dissension brought about—all through the agency
of a woman ! Were we writing a Philosophical Treatise
—and we could do so, mind you, if we liked—we might
moralize upon this subject through half-a-dozen pages.
Poor Mr. Pinchbold ! a dire retribution was in store for
him. On leaving the stables he entered the house, and
made straight for the salle-d-manger. As he passed
through the kitchen he saw Mademoiselle Louise's mamma
busy with the dinner, but the young lady herself was riot
there, nor was there any sign of the giant brothers. Mr.
Pinchbold passed on to the door of the salle-ct-manger.
The door was ajar, and he pushed it open.
Malheur, malheur ! There was Mademoiselle Loriise
standing by the window at the other end of the room, and
there was Wilquin the younger leaning over in the attitude
A RUDE WAKENING.
37$
of an acknowledged lover, whispering in her ear, and
actually—twice while Mr. Pinchbold stood rooted to the
spot—kissing that smooth and blushing cheek.
The pair were so placed with regard to the door by
which Mr. Pinchbold entered the room, that they could not-
see him where he stood. It is probable, therefore, that our
unhappy friend might have retired altogether unobserved,
to indulge his despair in secret, if Mazard, who was as
usual in close companionship with his master, had not
trotted very quietly into the room, and come to an anchor
suddenly with his legs very wide apart, exactly opposite
the window at which the lovers were standing.
The transition from Mazard to Mazard's master was
natural and instantaneous, and though Mr. Pinchbold lost
no time in retiring, Wilquin the younger had turned round
so briskly on seeing the dog, that he caught sight of an
Englishman's retreating form, and Mr. Pinchbold heard
certain dim mutterings, of which the word  diable formed
a conspicuous part, as he left the room.
Mr. Pinchbold was too deeply sunk in desperation at
that moment to mind what was said by Wilquin junior,
or by any one else. He had now but one desire, which
was to get away from the Hotel de la Poste as quickly as-
possible. Full of the thought, he went at once in search
of Mr. Fudge, and it is not improbable that if he had met
with him at that moment he would have urged strongly the
propriety—since it was impossible to leave Montbard before
the next morning—of shifting their quarters for the night
to the other hotel. Mr. Fudge, however, was not at hand,
and so our disconsolate friend was fain to wait till he should
see him at dinner. To say truth, he was now dreadfully
afraid lest his friend should have taken him at his word,
and made any arrangements for stopping over another day
in this now hateful town.
At dinner-time new trials awaited our unhappy gentle-
man. Two tables had been laid for their evening meal.
374
A CEUISE UPON WHEELS.
and placed one on each side of the fire. Four covers were ■
laid on the one and two on the other. Of course, this last
was intended for our two Englishmen.
They had hardly seated themselves at it when, noisier
and larger than ever, the Wilquin family entered the sulk-
a-manger, and took their places, joined in a short time
by the landlord, for whom, it appeared, the fourth place
was reserved. ' ;
And now it was not long in appearing that the business
conversation in which the three Wilquins and the landlord
had been engaged earlier in the day was, in truth, about
no less important a matter than the marriage settlement of
Mademoiselle Louise. The francs which had been' so
much discussed were the francs of which her dower was to
he composed; and about these francs every kind of hag*
.gling and disputation was still going on.
What a conversation was this for the wretched Mr.
Pinchbold to be compelled to listen to. What an aggra-
vation to see that hateful young giant sitting there, listen-
ing as coolly to what was going on as if he had no share in
the transaction; and, what was worst of all, to see him
waited upon, and tended, and all his wants supplied by
Mademoiselle Louise herself, who was as little discomposed
■by the discussion that was going on as her lover. This
young lady, too,—whether acting under the commands of
Wilquin the younger, or by her own choice—kept all her
attention for the table at which Les Wilquin were seated,
and left our two Englishmen to be waited on by the inn
servant.
All these things together were too much for Mr. Pinch-*
hold's powers of endurance, and as soon as a reasonable
excuse offered he left the table, and abandoning the field
to Les Wilquin, retired to his room, where Mr. Fudge found
him shortly after, walking up and down in the most diseon-
solate condition it is possible to imagine. Mr. Pinchbold
seized his friend's hand, as he entered the room, and wrung
it heartily.
PINCIIBOLD HIMSELF AGAIN.
375
 Fudge,1' lie said,  forgive me. I have acted like a
!< •<>] and an ass. 5 on must, give me a verdict of ' tempo-
rary insanity.' When can we leave this place?
'• Whenever you like, answered Mr. Fudge.
•• Like ! repeated Mr. Pinchbold ; "I should like to go
this very moment, but at all events let us get away as early
as possible in the morning.
"• We will start at any hour you like.
It was soon arranged that the two friends—reconciled
now as completely as if 110 difference had taken place
between them—should start before it was light the next
morning; and Mr. Fudge now left his friend to go and give
the requisite directions, and see that everything was so far
prepared that there would be no hindrance to their getting
off in good time.
Hut there are rumours extant at the Hotel de la Poste
(hat one of the Englishmen did not lie down in his bed
chat night, and that his footsteps were heard pacing up and
down his room till morning. It was the shorter English-
man, they said, of the two—the Englishman who seemed
to bear the traces of delicate health, and who, one would
have thought, stood more in need of rest than the other.
376
CHAPTEK XXII.
something about the country between montbard and dijon;
the most deserted of deserted roads. something also in
illustration of the folly of impatience, a feeling to
which the reader, it is hoped, never gives way.
Certainly, Mr. Pinclibold was a melancholy object when
he joined his friend at the inn door next morning. The
first grey tints of dawn were beginning to show them-
selves, but there was nobody astir in the house except the
landlord and the ostler. It was intensely cold ; and as Mr.
Pinclibold took one last look at the gloomy house, and
mounted, shuddering, to his place, it is probable that he
had not often felt more utterly and bleakly wretched. In
another instant the carriole was in motion, and the Hotel
de la Poste and Louise existed no more for Francis Pinch-
bold.
Mr. Fudge thought it best to leave his friend for a time
to himself; and, indeed, he had quite enough to do in
keeping the little horse in any sort of order. Something
or other, the day's rest, or the atmosphere of the Cote d'Or,
or the society of the horses of the detested "Wilquins, had so
affected the temper of Blinkers that he was almost as
difficult to manage as he had been on the day when the
travellers left Paris, and was inclined to shy and bolt at
everything he saw.
It had been decided, in consequence of the bad reports
which had reached our travellers of the state of the upper
road, that they would keep along the valley, and take the
road to Dijon that passed through Yitteaux, rather than
A CHANGE OF ROUTE.
377
that which went by Chanceaux and the Val de Suzon.
When, however, after driving a mile or two out of Mont-
bard, Mr. Fudge found that they were approaching the
railroad, and, shortly after, that they were alongside of it,
and were likely to be so for many miles, he felt some doubt
as to whether, after all, he and his friend had acted wisely
in choosing the lower road. From the moment that
Blinkers came in sight of the railroad, he seemed to become
perfectly frantic; till at last, a donkey happening to lift its
he/ad up out of a ditch in which it was feeding, the little
horse flung himself so suddenly and so completely round
that he almost disappeared from Mr. Fudge's sight, and
very narrowly missed upsetting the carriage. It happened
lufekily that the owner of the feeding ass was standing near,
and he went to the horse's head, and so they managed to
get him round again ; but Blinkers was greatly upset, and
it really did appear that to travel under these circumstances
by the side of the line, when there ivas another road, would
be the height of folly. The only question now was, could
they by any means still get into that other road without
going back again to Montbard ?
A little way on from the spot where this determined shy
of Blinkers had taken place there appeared to be a few
scattered houses; and making for these, and inquiring at
one (the blacksmith's) whether there was any possibility of
getting still into the upper road, our travellers learnt that
at a distance of only a few hundred yards they would
observe that the road divided, and that if they took the
turning which bore away to the left, they would find that
it ascended to the hills at once, and that they would have
no more to do with the railroad all the way to Dijon.
Mr. Fudge and his friend were not long in determining
on this course. Almost immediately on their turning aside
out of the lower road the ascent began, and the road seemed
at once to improve in beauty. The loneliness of that route
was something so extraordinary, that it almost seemed as if,
in commencing that ascent, they had left the world for good
378
A -CRUISE UP Of "WHEELS.
behind them. Their way lay along the side of a range of
hills, and as they wound along for miles and miles, in slow
ascent, the valley from which they were gradually rising
became more and more disclosed to view. Along that
valley ran a small stream which showed at intervals ; and
here and there were little patches of wood, which looked as
if they were inhabited by the wild boars of which they
had heard at Tonnerre; while it must be owned that the
sides of the hill itself which the travellers were ascending
had something of a wolfish look. For miles and miles
they ascended thus, still with the hill on their left, and the
great solitary valley on their right. At last they seemed
to have reached the top of this great wall of earth, and the
place was marked by a small cabaret, where such waggoners
as might still be on the road could stop to bait their horses
—and themselves,
And now the road, for a little while, is comparatively-
level. They seem at the top of everything, and get on a
little faster, breathing the pure air with pleasure. It is n6t
long, however, before they find that they are, so to speakj
crossing over the top of the high ridge which they have
been ascending so long, for the valley on the other side of
it is presently disclosed to view, and seems a vaster, and
more solitary, a more wolfish and wild-boarish vale than
the other. Along the top of the high wall that shuts this
valley in they now move slowly, for they are ascending
still, and the road is very bad; till at last, after some hours
of driving, they really do reach the highest ground they
have at present to do with, and find themselves on a sort of
barren moor, and wonder how much longer it will be before
they see some sign of Villeneuve, where they are to rest
and bait their horse. There seems so little sign of any
such place that they begin to despair; and Mr. Fudge
seeing some peasants at work in a field at a little distance
from the road, gets down, and goes off after them, to inquire
whether they are still in the right road.
After a great deal of bawling and cross-questioning in a
ROUGH QUARTERS.
379
high key, Mr. Fudge comes back with the information that
Villeneuve is but a mile or two further on; and, encouraged
with this, they start again, and after several more ascents
and descents, come at last to the smallest and most miser-
able village they have yet stopped at. There is no sign of
life or occupancy about any of the miserable hovels that
show on each side of the road; but when they reach one
at last, with a dead bush stuck up over the door, to inti-
mate that it is an auberge, a wild, half-starved-looking
woman comes to the threshold of the door to stare.
This good lady seems by no means overjoyed to see the
travellers. If they descended, she said, they must look
after the horse themselves, for her gar§on was gone, as was
the case with every other' member of the male population
in the village, to assist in the vintage. She had no meat;
there was no butcher. She could make an omelette,
certainly; there was milk, too; they could have some cafe
au lait.
In the inside of this miserable auberge a couple of aged
crones were sitting, crouched like witches, over the embers
in the chimney corner; one was aged seventy-three, and
the other eighty-five; both wore enormous coal-scuttle
bonnets, both had packs to wear on their shoulders, and
both gave themselves out as travellers, though why they
travelled, and in what capacity, it was impossible to extract
from them.
Mr. Fudge, assisted by his friend, unharnessed the horse
and put him in the stable, and in due time fetched his oats
in a sieve, after which it became necessary to see what was
to be had in the way of breakfast. There was not much.
A horrible jar full of soft yellow grease, called by courtesy
salt butter, was produced, and with its aid an omelette
was ultimately produced, a quantity of milk, quite of a dark
grey colour, from the dirt of the vessel it was boiled in,
was set in a basin before the travellers, and they were
further provided with two smaller basins out of which to
drink this liquid, after it had been duly tinctured with
3S0
A CUUISB UPON WHEELS.
some thick black coffee. The landlady cut some slices off
an enormous loaf, shaped like a cheese, and having roasted
one side of each slice, deposited the loaf itself on a chair,
which was drawn up to the table between the two seats
occupied by our travellers. The loaf looked like a third
guest, and was so large that a couple of kittens who were
sporting about made it their head-quarters; alternately
lying down upon the crumb, and tottering along its cut
edge, as if on the brink of a precipice.
It was probably a good thing for Mr. Pinchbold, in
helping him to shake off the fatal memories of the Beauty
of Montbard, that the events of the morning had been such
as they were. The misbehaviour of Blinkers at starting,
the accident by the railway side, the necessity of deciding
suddenly as to the route to be adopted, the great change of
scene, and the perfectly new character of the road, all these
things were favourable to our susceptible friend, and the
amount of waiting on themselves which devolved on our
travellers at the cabaret of Yilleneuve was equally so. Mr.
Pinchbold's attention was constantly engaged, and at last,
and just when he was beginning to show signs of flagging,
he was again called upon to exert himself by no less a cir-
cumstance than an application for medical advice from the
landlady of the inn.
This was touching Mr. Pinchbold on a weak point.
Like many other persons who enjoy delicate health, and are
besides rather hypochondriacal, Mr. Pinchbold flattered
himself that he was a bit of a doctor, was constantly in the
habit of prescribing for himself, and always vowed that he
derived immense benefit from his own advice. Now the
poor woman who kept this wretched auberge was, it appeared,
an habitual dyspeptic, and well she might be, to judge by
the style of living of which our travellers had had a speci-
men. She had originally applied to Mr. Fudge, with that
strong confidence in the universal wisdom of the educated
which the uneducated possess, and by him she had been
referred to Mr. Pinchbold. Mr. Fudge knew his friend's
MR. PINCHBOLD PRESCRIBING.
381
weakness, and was not sorry of the opportunity of giving
him new matter to think of.
It was a good sight to see Mr. Pinchbold examining the
tongue and the pulse of the Veuve Dumay—whose only
notion of a cure for the stomach-ache was a cup of water
with some sugar in it—it was a good sight to see him drag
out his medicine-chest from a place of concealment, and
make up little powders, weighed with the utmost precision,
in a pair of light brass scales which were the delight of his
heart. The true benevolence of the little gentleman's heart
came out at a season like this ; and when all was done, and
provision made for at least a week's powdering and pilling
of his patient, when the last directions had been given, and
when, after they had absolutely got under way again, the
carriole was stopped that Mr. Pinchbold might run back to
give some fresh instruction which had not occurred to him
before—then, we say, when the honest gentleman came
running hastily back, with Mazard at his heels, both out of
breath, it might be said that Mr. Pinchbold was almost
himself again.
The road during the rest of that day's journey kept still
on the high ground, and though they were continually
going up and down hill, the ascent was always equal to the
descent, and so they maintained, on the whole, a level. At
last, late in the afternoon, they came to a longer declivity,
with a considerable hill beyond it, and by the time they
had laboured to its summit they found themselves, at about
half-past five o'clock, at the entrance to Chanceaux.
A small, bare-looking village of a single street. The
inn does not boast a sign, but bears the name of Chopin
over the door.
 This looks rather hopeless, said Mr. Fudge.
It does not always do to judge by appearances. Mr.
Fudge had hardly uttered these words, when a singularly
good-looking young fellow came forward from the inn-yard
and gave them such a welcome to the place as they had not
met with before at any inn they stopped at. He was pre-
382
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
sently followed by an oldish lady who called him le Petit,
though he was a great strapping fellow of two or three-and-
twenty, while he in turn addressed the old lady as
 Maman. These two seemed to vie with each other in
their efforts to make our travellers comfortable.
A blazing fire was soon lit in the best bedroom, which
Mr. Fudge insisted on resigning to his friend, and in half
an hour the first instalment of a most excellent dinner
made its appearance, and was placed on a table which was
drawn out in front of the fire. There was something won-
derfully snug about that dinner in a bedroom, with half a
forest of logs roaring in the chimney; and as le Petit set
down each dish he said  La  in a comfortable manner, as
if he was a juggler performing a trick.
But this was not all. Chanceaux, it appeared, was a
wonderful place, enjoying a speciality for a peculiar kind
of preserve, made from a berry only found in that particular
neighbourhood, and bearing the name of epine-vinette.
Maman brought in herself a dish of these berries to con-
elude the feast, and waited to see their effect on the
travellers.
She might well look confident about them. Never were
such berries; never was such preserve as that since berries
and preserves have existed. Never was such a blending of
acid and sweet with some other indescribable flavour, which
the reader must journey to Chanceaux if he wants to know
about. To attempt to gi ve any idea of that ruby-compound
in words would be simply to do it an injury. .We want
some more luscious medium than printer's ink in which to
discourse of this marvellous preserve.
But not the juice of the epine-vinette, not the partridge?-,
not the hearty welcome and the many other attractions of
M. Chopin's inn could detain our travellers on the road.
They were up betimes next morning, and ready to start
almost with the sun's career. il Onward was their cry.
The season was advancing. It was the sixteenth of
October, and though they had now got well on their . road,
CHANCEAUX.
383
tliere still remained, as the reader will see if he can find
Chanceaux in his map of France, a great deal to be done.
There were rumours, too, of a tremendous descent, and a
tremendous hill which lay between them and Dijon, and
both the travellers felt a longing to attack these difficulties
and get them over.
As they journeyed along that morning, the two friends
were continually straining their eyes whenever they came
to the top of any rising ground in the hope of seeing this
great hill before them; but a very small rise near at hand
will hide a perfect mountain at a distance, and there was
nothing to be seen yet. The plan of our travellers for this
day was to rest at the small town at St. Seine, which was
distant only about eight miles from Chanceaux, where they
had passed the night, and in the afternoon to get on to the
Val de Suzon, where they had been told they might expect
to find, a tolerable inn. The next day they would reach
Dijon very easily.
The distance from Chanceaux to St. Seine was so short
that it was still quite early in the morning—about half-
past nine o'clock only—when Mr. Fudge and his friend
found themselves descending the steep zigzag of the hill1
which overhangs the lovely valley of St. Seine, and thev
got into the inn in excellent time for a second and sub-
stantial breakfast.
What a disturbing thing is a new idea which changes
your preconceived plans. When the possibility strikes us
for the first time of performing some achievement which
we are not quite sure we can carry through, how profoundly
wretched we make ourselves with ineessant consideration
of all that is to be said for and against the execution of our
project. Can. it be done ? No j better not to attempt it—
and yet—
And yet—it was possible that Mr. Fudge and his friend
might get to Dijon that afternoon. In discoursing with
the ostler at St. Seine, Mr. Fudge had learnt that they
were now only twenty-six kilometres, or about nineteen
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
miles, from the capital of the Cote cTOr. This piece of
intelligence, which set before the two friends the possibility
of reaching Dijon that very day, was very disturbing. The
day was beautiful, it was still very early, and Dijon—it
would be such a thing to get to Dijon. They would feel
then that they had accomplished so much, that so short a
journey comparatively lay before them.
For already that anxiety to get to the end, which is such
an inseparable accompaniment of all human undertakings,
was harassing both Mr. Fudge and his friend. It was not
that they were tired of their journey ; far from it. The
pleasure of it tar exceeded anything they had anticipated,
and they both dreaded the flatness which they felt would
fall upon them on their return to a tamer and more
stationary life. It is thus with half our attempts at enjoy-
ment. People get up theatricals, or organize some party of
pleasure, and all the time that intervenes between the first
preparation for either one or the other and their final
accomplishment, is passed in longing for the thing to be
done and over.
And so our two Englishmen were longing to get on. The
Jura mountains lay in the far distance yet, and till these
were attacked and conquered, their project—in which their
credit was now to no small extent embarked—might yet
fall through. The idea of getting to Dijon that very night
had taken possession of them both, but perhaps Mr. Pinch-
hold's eagerness on the subject was even greater than his
companion's. Haply he felt that every yard of ground that
he put between himself and the town of Montbard would
render slighter and more apt to snap the elastic thread
which still bound him to the memory of the innkeeper's
daughter. Haply he longed for continued movement,
excitement, change; and felt that as these things had done
much for him already, it was to them that he must still
look for relief and a complete restoration. At all events,
be those things as they might, Mr. Pinchbold was very
A DISTURBING THOUGHT.
385
eager to press on, and Mr. Fudge was but little inclined to
oppose him.
It was true that there were certain difficulties in the way
of the achievement on which our two Englishmen had set
their minds. It was true that the distance before them was
in reality doubled by the fact that a descent of about three
miles and a half, and an ascent of at least two, so steep that
it was accomplished by a zigzag, or corniche road—it was
true that this lay between them and Dijon. It was true
that they had done thirty-six kilometres of hilly country
the day before. It was true that by hurrying on thus they
would be less able to do justice to the magnificent scenery
of the Yal de Suzon, and would be occupied less with the
pleasure of being in the valley than with the thought
whether their horse would be able to drag them out of it.
All these things were true enough, but then it was true
also that they wanted to get on.
The idea of  getting on positively haunted the two
travellers. Their dejeuner a la fourchette was an excellent
one, yet from the cafe au lait with which it began, to the
partridge and dessert with which it ended, the thought of
 getting on was ever present to the minds of both Mr
Fudge and his companion. The walk which succeeded the
breakfast was through a lovely country, but the hills and
valleys through which they loitered only suggested thoughts
of the hills and valleys between St. Seine and Dijon, and
the idea of  getting on beyond them. Even when they
were sitting on a certain stone wall, basking in the sun, and
when there appeared, descending the hill in front of them
at a frightful pace, a thin gentleman dressed all in black,
with a white neckcloth and no hat, who, coming thus out of
the mountains, advanced rapidly towards them, turned
aside from the main path to approach them more nearly,
peered closely into their faces, and then retiring abruptly
disappeared within some iron gates which enclosed a wilder-
ness, and locking the gates behind him was seen no more—
C C
386
A. CEUISE UPON WHEELS.
even when this tremendous occurrence took place, it held
our two travellers entranced in wonder only for a compara-
tively short time, and they were soon back again in their
previous groove, of thought, and pondering over the possi-
bility or impossibility-of reaching Dijon that evening.
At length Mr. Fudge, and his companion came to the
decision that they would, not come, to a decision at all, but
would start as soon as Blinkers had. had a. proper rest, and
would be guided entirely by such indications of force or
fatigue as he should show in his general carriage and de-
meanour.
Now it happened that the general carriage and demeanour
of the little horse were never more sprightly than on this
particular occasion; and when our two friends remarked
to each other, at the top of the hill' which led out of the
town of St. Seine, that the  hill hadn't touched him a bit,
it may be legitimately affirmed' that, from that moment, it
was a settled- point that the attempt should be made to
reach Dijon that night..
At the top of that hill the travellers'paused and looked
back at the valley they, had just left. Not far from that
little town of St. Seine rose the small stream,, which, wind-
ing and turning for some hundred or two of miles, mingled
its waters at last with, the glorious Yonne, under the bridge
of Montereau—that bridge on which John of Burgundy
was killed, and on which our* two Englishmen had stood
and watched the river's bubbles as they swept, away to
Paris. Wonderful, tar think, that that small and feeble
rivulet, shining among the meadows in a. silver line, and
looking so bright, so harmless, and so gay, should once
have licked its lips for prey beneath the walls of the Tour
de Nesle, and'should now* provide'the-tables at the Morgue
with more than half of their hideous burden,'—-just as
wonderful as it is to think, that the baby, which we hang
over in the cradle, shall one. day be a sordid -wretch that
grovels in the mire for gold, or a drunkard that men
shrink from in the street.
THE VAL HE STJZON.
387
Whether any such thoughts as these were in the minds
of our travellers we are, of course, unable to say, but. they
looked long and earnestly at the scene before them, and
turned to pursue their way with something of reluctance.
But if the scene which they left behind them was an
attractive one, the country which lay yet unexplored was
surely almost more so. It was not long- now before they
began to descend; and soon it became evident that this
decline was no other than the commencement of the great
descent which leads to the VaL de Suzon.
The road was now thickly wooded, on both sides, and it
seemed more as if they were following the natural course
of some deep gorge, leading into the depths of the valley,
than a road which owed its existence to the- art of the
engineer. Lower and lower they descended, till a distance
of about three miles of continuous declivity had been
accomplished; about which time a very unpleasant stumble
on the part of Blinkers, who only by a hair's breadth
missed tumbling altogether head over heels, made our two
travellers once more bethink themselves whether they had
not better reconsider their- determination of  getting on,
and put up, after all, at the Val de Suzon inn.
It was while occupied with these thoughts that a sudden
turn in the road disclosed a scene of such, new and extra*-
ordinary beauty as made our Englishmen, pause almost
involuntarily, and banished for a. time every other consi-
deration except a feeling of the extremest. admiration and
delight. The profound valley, to the very lowest depth?
of which they had now nearly penetrated^ seemed like the
central point from which the huge hills around it had been
split asunder as if by some- engine of more than giant
power- The mighty fissures left by this convulsion ex-i
tended in more than one enormous ravine away from the
common centre where our travellers stood, for miles and
miles, till they could see no further;- but the scene, which
would have been unbearably awful had the sides of these
huge gorges been left bare, was rendered beautiful and
c c 2
388
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
softened into something almost of a cultivated loveliness by
the masses of foliage which completely covered the rocky
sides of these vast ravines. The glow of a sun, not sinking,
but toned with the glow of an autumn afternoon, added
yet another element of softness to this scene. But there
were regions here which the sun's beams could not reach,
like the cold depths of some stern heart which the warm
rays of charity may never touch.
This Val du Suzon is now little known, and few persons
find their way to lie through it; but in the days wheh
travelling was travelling, and not simply the conveying of
human beings from one station to another—in those days
the diligence or the malle-poste, on its way to Dijon, to
Lyons, to Geneva, must have thundered through this
wondrous valley, and awakened the solemn echoes, which
the fir-trees muffle, as if the sides of this abyss were the
padded walls of a question-chamber.
To linger in this beautiful: place, to Avander on and on
crying still "More, more, of such a scene, Avas natural
enough ; and it is little to be wondered at that our tAvo
friends should agree that the inn at the very lowest point
in the valley Avould be an unwholesome place to sleep at ;
and that its proprietor, one of the fattest men that ever
wore a blue blouse and a pointed beard, had, as he stood at
his door, the aspect of a bloated spider waiting for prey.
At all events, neither Mr. Fudge nor his friend could bear
to think of stopping. E\rery turn of the wheel, as the
carriage advanced, disclosed some new beauty to view ; and
Avhen at length, the lower part of the valley having been
traversed, they commenced the ascent out of it, which was
by a zigzag cut in the rock, both gentlemen felt that to stop
at that moment would be to deprive their passage through
the Val de Suzon of half its charm and interest.
Of course Mr. Fudge and his friend walked up the whole
ascent, and paused at every turn in the zigzag to breathe
their horse ; there were plenty of large stones to , put
behind the Avheels, which had been used often enough for
PUSHING ON.
389
that purpose. At any fresh stoppage of this kind, the
wonderful effects of the now-declining sunlight on the
valley from which they were emerging called forth new
expressions of delight from both our travellers, and made
them congratulate themselves afresh on having pursued
their journey, and so had an opportunity of seeing the
gloaming form before their eyes in the lower depths of the
valley.
The ascent was a long and very slow process. A steep
hill of more than two miles is a serious thing to encounter,
and by the time that our friends had taken their last
look at the valley, and, emerging from the wood, got out at
last on the open country again, the daylight had disappeared,
Blinkers was knocked up, and they were something like ten
miles distant from Dijon.
A drive of ten miles in the dark with a tired horse is
one of the most dreary and dismal performances in which
it is possible to engage. The greater part of the distance
had to be done at a walk, and Mr. Fudge and his com-
panion were seldom in the carriage. At length a good piece
of road seemed to offer an opportunity of making a little
advance, and Blinkers was once again put upon his mettle;
but he had not trotted twenty yards when he made a false
step of so serious a nature that he plunged heavily forward,
and though Mr. Fudge recovered him immediately, that
gentleman felt with dismay in his soul that the little horse
had been down.
Mr. Fudge was by this time deeply attached to Blinkers,
and he really had not the courage to get down and look at
his favourite's knees, so dreadful to him was the bare pos-
sibility of any disaster having happened to them.
 Take the lantern, he said to Mr. Pinchbold, "and just
see whether he's hurt.
Mr. Pinchbold descended from the carriage, followed
by Mazard, and holding the lantern to Blinkers' face,
as if he expected to find his nose broken, answered joy-
fully—
890
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
 Not a "bit.
 But the knees—-loot ;at the knees, said Mr. Pudge, in
an agony.
 Ah! cried Mr. Pinchbold,  there is a great white
patch on each of them.
Mr. Fudge was out of the carriole and by his friend's
side in an instant, and down on his knees examining the
little horse's legs. His knees were not cut—indeed, there was
scarcely a hair disturbed ^ but the white chalky dust of the
road was 'upon them, and showed that he had touched them
for an instant.
This was a dreadful blow; and as if with the idea that
to. obliterate the traces of this accident would alter the fact
of its really having occurred, Mr. Fudge looked round him
in all directions for some water with which to wash off
those two hateful white patches which showed to such
hideous advantage on the horse's black skin. They were
on high ground, however, and water was not to be had;
so Mr. Fudge was obliged to have recourse to his brandy-
flask, and pouring .some of its contents into the tin cup
which fitted one end.of it, he dipped his pocket-handkerchief
into it, and set.to work at the little horse's knees with such
energy, that in a very little while they were as dark as ever
again. But Mr. Fudge knew something of horses, and
something of .tumbles, and it was with many fears that the
morning's light would disclose an . awkward turn in the hair
about his favourite's knees that he got up from his task,
and returned his brandy-flask to its place.
Never was anything like the length and weariness of
that night's journey. After the accident that had hap-
pened, it was impossible to think of proceeding at any pace
but a walk, and unhappily Blinkers did not possess that
invaluable quality in a horse—of being a fast walker. So
this funeral procession moved along absolutely for hours in
the darkness and solitude, and it really did seem as if that
last ten miles was more than three times that distance.
Over and over again did both our travellers now break
PUSHING ON.
891
out into bitter invectives against their own folly in having
attempted to make this push for Dijon, instead of putting
up at the inn in the Yal de Suzon, whose landlord they
now pronounced to have been one of the j oiliest and most
amiable-looking men they had ever seen, and who, they
now remembered, had made a sort of courteous gesture of
welcome to them as they approached the auberge, as if he
made quite sure that they were going to stop there for the
night.
After hours, then, spent in creeping thus over the
ground, our two benighted adventurers heard a sound
which caused a ray of hope to break into their weary hearts.
It was the faint and distant sound of a railway-whistle. It
was the most aggravating whistle, .though, that ever was
heard. For something like half-an-hour it continued to be
heard at intervals of about a minute, but Mr. Fudge and
his friend both agreed that .they never seemed ,to get any
nearer to it. At last, for a short time, it stopped altogether,
and just as our travellers were coming to the conclusion
that all chance of approaching any civilized place that night
was out of the question, they found themselves quite
suddenly driving past a row of houses, and shortly after
they emerged into an open space full of lights, and passing
under a sort of triumphal arch, were dit the main street of
Dijon. Even here, however, their trouble did not alto-
gether cease, for Mr. Fudge was so demoralized, that he
 took the door-post as he drove into the  Cloche
Hotel, while at the moment of his descending from the
carriole, his lantern suddenly sprang out of his hand for
some unknown reason of its own, and dashed itself to pieces
on the stones of the stable-yard.
392
CHAPTER XXIII.
dijon, the heart op the cdte d'or. two days op rest, and
the last great division of the journey entered upon.
the travellers arrive at auxonne, and get into very
remarkable quarters indeed.
It has not been without many misgivings that the compiler
of this present narrative has ventured to put forth a book
of travels containing so little of useful information as is
furnished in the pages of this volume. There is nothing
here which is likely to be quoted in scientific journals,
nothing that can find its way into statistical returns, or
form the subject of angry controversy in our leading daily
journals.
We are not describing a new country. We have no
chance of interesting the reader with an account of how
 we had now aAived at the great river Hubbaroo-lioo-
hoosh, and had pitched our tents for the night on the high
ground which stretches along its northern bank.
"' Wollop effendi hujja pore yallah-hah yah ?' said I,
as the swarthy form of my dragoman appeared at the door
of the tent. ' Are there any crocodiles about here ?' was
the purport of my question.
"' Crunchem boney licku blood up,' was his agreeable
reply, as he showed his white teeth; and sure enough at
that moment the tent cloth was lifted on one side, and the
jaws of an alligator of the largest size (about six hundred
feet from head to tail) appeared in the aperture thus made.
It might have been supposed, again, that as we have not
got the luck of having a new country to describe, we should
DIJON.
393
at any rate go to work in the established manner in tack-
ling an old one. We are now in the very heart of Bur-
gundy. What could be more natural than to enter into a
ininute description of the system under which the wine
trade, for which that country is celebrated, is carried on ?
It would be perfectly easy for us to get access to the cellars
of the leading wine proprietors in the Burgundy country,
and to give the reader accurate accounts of the number of
pipes of wine in Monsieur Toechaud's cellars ; of the pro-
cess by which that wine is made ; the amount exported to
different countries; the influence of the new tariff upon the
trade ; and a hundred other equally exciting matters of the
same kind. We might launch out, too, into a spirited
account of the vintage, and describe the  dark-eyed peasant
girl, bending under the load of luscious grapes—a charming
study for an artist.
Nay, even now we might repair our previous omis-
sions, and hastening off to the British Museum, to which
library we have free access, we might go to work under the
head of France in the Encyclopaedia, and fish out half a
hundred or so of ancient legends belonging to the different
towns through which our way has lain, and with them
again we might lick our volume into shape, give it some
resemblance to other books of travels, and so win a hearing
after all.
Here we are now at Dijon, the capital of the Cote d'Or,
the very innermost centre of Burgundy. What things
might we not find out about Dijon even, independently of
what we know by personal observation. We know its
ancient buildings, which are not many; we know its
streets, that are quiet but not dull, and lively without being
smart; we know the pretty Place, with the fountains, at
the outskirts of the town; and its market, that makes one
long to settle in Dijon for life, and live for half nothing on
the fat of the land. We know that the town abounds in
sage-femmes, in confectioners, in mustard-shops; the last
abounding to a remarkable extent, and suggesting in a
394. A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
singular absence of chemists, that a mustard poultice is
here the remedy for everything. Besides all these things,
we know the great church with a square fagade like a
town-hall, where the two figures appear when the hour
strikes and hammer alternately, convulsing their whole
bodies to do so, till the pipe which one of them has in his
mouth vibrates again. All these things we might treat of
—and of many more—at great length if we liked, but they
are nothing to the matters which we might fish out of the
Museum Library, and which would assuredly find a place
in these pages, if it were not that this .narrative has been
taken in hand upon a principle which would ill assort with
the introduction of such details.
The forsaken road, the wayside, inns, the obsolete mode
of travelling, the petty advances secured,so hardly day by
day, the strong chance of a breakdown and of the journey
coming to an untimely end, the history of such .a journey
as in early schoolboy days one has dreamed of between
sleeping and waking—-these things, and such as these, are
what w.e have depended on for giving an interest to this
narrative, and on those we propose to depend still, till we
come to the journey's termination—wherever that termina-
tion .may be.
Ensconced in a comfortable corner stall, .and with lots of
straw to lie down on, when he felt disposed to do so, the
little horse enjoyed a period of rest at Dijon which soon
set right the fatigue of his previous hard work. Eor two
whole days he rested there undisturbed, except by the
arrival of his food, and by certain periodical visits from
.Mr. Eudge, between whom and Blinkers a firm and lasting
friendship was established. It is true, that there was one
other visitor, who would not unfrequently drop in upon
him and spend an hour or so in social chat. This was
Mazard, between whom and Blinkers, it has been already
stated, a close intimacy subsisted. In fact, the dog was no
sooner brought in from following his master about the
town, than he would trot off as a matter of course to the
XA CLOCHE.
395-
stables, where he would be found at any time coiled up on
the straw under the manger, with Blinkers sniffling at him
in a curious mixture of wonder and regard.
It has been said that our travellers spent two entire days-
at Dijon. They arrived on the evening of Tuesday,
October the sixteenth, and on the morning of Friday, the
nineteenth, they made their arrangements to resume their
journey. In the interval between these two periods, they
had plenty of time to see the town, to write letters, to go to-
the bankers for money, and Mr. Pinchbold to look to
certain serious omissions which his diary had latterly
sustained.
But when Mr. JPinchbold found that to repair these
omissions it would be necessary that he should go back in
memory to the inn at Montbard, the pen dropped involun-
tarily from liis hand, and he determined that there should
be a gap in his notes, and that he would take a fresh start
from Dijon.
The Hotel de la Cloche was none of your provincial
auberges. Mr. Pinchbold's room was adorned with a great
flaring carpet, the bedstead was of polished mahogany, there
was a round mirror over the fireplace, another round mirror
over the chest of drawers on which the washing tMngs were
placed, and yet another on a .toilet-table opposite the fire-
place; there was .a round table in the middle of the room,
and the windows gave upon the street, which was all very
grand and magnificent.
The government and staff attached to the hotel appear to
have consisted of a sharp, middle-aged woman ; a dry, un-
interesting young man, wholly devoid of character, and,
perhaps, son of the above; an inquisitive chambermaid; a
boots, whom to know was to desire to crush; a timid
assistant-boots, who somewhat mitigated his senior'^
villanies ; waiters familiar and insolent, permitting them-
selves to laugh derisively at their guests, and screaming
 Yaas to each other down the stairs when English visitors
were ascending them. Mr. Pinchbold speaks also of a
396
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
stupid old man who generally pervaded the hotel, and who
may have been its proprietor; and of a fat, civil, and well-
informed ostler, who said that he and Blinkers were comrades
at once.
All things considered, and bearing in mind especially
that longing to get on which has been before spoken of as
having possession of our two friends, they were both not
sorry when the day of their departure from Dijon arrived.
They were now engaged in the last stage of all their
journey. The next great resting-place was at its termina-
tion—Geneva. They were within little more than a week's
journey of their destination.
It has been already said that the road had been one and
undivided hitherto—with the exception of the portion
between Montbard and Dijon, where the travellers had a
choice between the upper and lower road—it has been said
that after Dijon there were two roads by which it was
possible for them to accomplish their journey. The first'
of these, going round by Beanne and Maijon, was the easiest
but the furthest round; while the second, by Auxonne,
Dole, Poligny, attacked the mountains almost at once, but
was much the more direct route of the two. Undeterred
by the accounts which they heard of the mountainous
country they would have to traverse, our Englishmen, after
prolonged consideration, came to the conclusion that the
shorter road was that by which they would do best to travel.
In addition to the other reasons which both our travellers
had for choosing the shortest route that was to be had, it
must be mentioned that they had now an additional one,
furnished by the state of health of our unfortunate Mr. Pinch-
bold. We have already mentioned that this gentleman's
constitution was none of the strongest, and the continuous
fatigue of this journey, and the wretched and unwholesome
diet, seemed to be gradually knocking him up. It is not
unlikely that the Burgundy wine, the commoner kinds of
which our friends had been now in the habit of drinking'for
some time, may have had some share in Mr. Pinchbold's
MR. PINCHBOLD'S HEALTH. 397
illness; for that Burgundy is a rich, a bilious, and a gouty
wine there can be no manner of doubt. There may be also
a possibility that mental emotion may have gone for some-
thing in upsetting our worthy friend's health, and that his
sufferings at Montbard may have contributed with the other
matters named to produce the indisposition under which he
if&s suffering. At all events, be that as it might, it was
certain that poor Mr. Pinchbold was not in good health.
His appetite was gone, he complained continually of sick-
ness, and a low fever was upon him day and night. In
feet he was in that state in which a man is thoroughly out
of health without being able to say Avhat is the matter
vdth him, or feeling justified in sending for medical advice.
 Only let us get on ! was Mr. Pinchbold's cry ;  let us
get on to Geneva, where there is civilization, and help if
we want it.
■ And so at half-past eight o'clock on the morning of
Friday, the 19th of October, the two friends set off once
more on the road to Geneva, which town looked now—as
they consulted the map—really within some sort of reach.
They were to sleep that night at Auxonne, a town which
lay at about twenty-four miles from Dijon.
With the exception of a great growth of Indian corn,
which was now observable in all directions, there was no
new or remarkable feature in the country between Dijon
and Genlis, where the travellers stopped for their midday
rest. And, indeed, if there had been anything remarkable
they would scarcely have noticed it, so anxiously were they
now on the look-out for the first appearance of the mountains
which they hoped soon to come in sight of. The next
day, between Auxonne and Dole, they were to pass the
boundaries of the Cote d'Or, and to enter the Department
of the Jura, and towards that partial consumnation of their
•wishes both Mr. Fudge and his companion were now looking
eagerly forward.
A most superb breakfast, consisting of mutton cutlets, an
excellent ham, French beans, and an extraordinary wood-
308'
JL CRUISE UPON WHEELSh.
cock, hung to an hour, roasted to a minute,, and served, on
toast in the most approved manner,, was the only circum-
stance connected with the village at Genlis which left any
impression on the minds of our Englishmen. This meal
was done ample justice to by Mr. Fudge, but poor. Mr.
Pinolibold could make little of it, and was glad wheal it was
over, and when he and his friend were walking by the.
side of the small stream Avhich runs through the village-
Later in the afternoon, and just when the travellers were,
starting, it came on to rain, and continued doing so till
they reached the town of Auxonne. It must be mentioned
that it was in the course of that afternoon's journeying
along a very dismal road, with a row of yellow poplars an.
each side of it, that Mr. Pinchbold,. seeing a. large- square
stone, about four feet high, by the roadside, was at great
pains to get down and examine it carefully on all sides, in
the hope of finding some curious matter with which to
enrich his notes. There were some provoking incisions
which looked like letters on the surface, of the- stone, but
not one single word could Mr. Pinchbold make out, and he
sighed softly as he mounted once more, to his place,, and
thought of his barren notes.
Auxonne, the first fortified town which our travellers
had encountered on the south side of Paris, was in a. state
of great commotion when Mr. Fudge and his. friend entered
it; for were not the military here again ? Had they not
taken up their quarters, in their beautiful, condescension,, at
the best inn in the town ? And was not the band, banging
and braying away before its windows^, and all the popular
tion of the town drawn out to listen to it ?
. Now delightful as all this was, it had its inconveniences,
for not only did Blinkers decline to pass the band on any
terms whatever, but even when this difficulty was got oven,
by leading him by the head, when the interior of the
stable-yard was attained, our Englishmen were met by the
disastrous intelligence (made all the worse by its being
delivered to a very joyous tune played by the band outside)
ARRIVAL AT AUXONNE.
309
that they need not take the trouble of unpacking the carriole
or taking down the luggage, for—here the music became
more joyous than ever—there was no room for them in the
 Grand Cerf, which was the name of the inn.
 No room for one of us ? inquired Mr. Fudge, thinking
of his invalid friend.
 Not for half a one, was the reply ; at which the band
went fairly mad with joy.
This was disastrous intelligence; and as it was only
delivered by the' garfjon, Mr. Fudge required to see the.
landlady. He was not much the better for his interview
with this functionary ; she only repeated what her' servant
had said before. The officers had secured every bed, every
room, every cupboard, in the house; and as to any other
inn in the town,, there were cabarets, certainly,, but nothing
to be called an hotel, nor even an inn. "With this the
landlady abandoned, all suggestion, and left the two friends
to arrange matters as they liked.
There was one more chance. Did madame know any
one in the town who would provide beds for the travellers ?
They could, doubtless, take their meals at the inn ?
 Oh, yes, they could do that.
 Well, then, surely, Mr. Fudge argued,  Madame
must know of some person 
 Some trustworthy person, Mr. Pinchbold put in.
 At whose house they could sleep for that one night V
The landlady set to work to think this subject over, and
after a consultation with' her husband, in which the extra-
ordinary word  DevillelichoV struck more than once on
the ears of our two Englishmen, she retired, and having
been absent at least ten minutes, during which the band
played a dirge, and Mr. Pinchbold eat down upon a step
the embodiment of human misery, she returned, and an-
nounced that M. Devillebichot, the chemist, placed the
apartment occupied formerly by his u belle-mere, or
mother-in-law, at the disposal of the two English gentle-
men.
400
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
So Blinkers was put up in the stables of the inn, and the
carriole was left in its yard; and Mr. Pinchbold got off
his door-step, and whispering,  a chemist—we shall be
poisoned, in his companion's ear, followed the landlady's
son (a boy in a precocious uniform, who was to show them
the way) into the street.
The announcement of the landlady that her friend the
chemist would supply a couple of rooms would have been
more to the purpose if she had said that this prop of
pharmacy would supply a dozen rooms. On reaching the
abode of Devillebichot, the travellers were conducted by
the military boy, first of all, through a front shop with
nothing in it, and then through a back shop with nothing
in it, and then past a glazed-door, through which ft
bearded man, of hideous and malignant appearance, was
glaring at them. After that they descended two steps,
falling heavily, and then they pursued to its utmost limits
a long dark passage; after which they ascended one step,
stumbling slightly, and emerged into a court-yard, full of
bottles, some empty and some full, of green and yellow
poisons, which bottles were intimately mixed up with
wicked-looking crucibles, and retorts, and furnaces, and
glass bowls, and broken pestles and mortars, in which
weeds had taken root, sprouting deadly nightshade before
Mr. Pinchbold's very eyes. And now having got past all
these chemical horrors, and still following the military boy,
they ascend an outside stair at the end of the yard, passing
a picture of the Magdalen, the paint of which is falling off
in chips; and then, going through another glass-door, they
enter another passage, of incredible length and hideous
darkness, and so they reach, at length, a door, which has
to be unlocked, and which opens into a large empty room,
opening into another empty room, which leads to two more,
which last have no windows of their own communicating
with the outer air, but prey upon those rooms which have;
such windows, and cheat them out of a little light by means
of an ceil-de-boeuf, while they, in turn, are preyed upon by
LA BELLE-MEltE.
401
other yet darker apartments, also having yeux-de-boeuf,
and so remote now from the light outside, that it is barely
possible to discern certain dreadful wares which lie on
shelves, and are scattered about the floor—portions of
abandoned and torn wearing apparel, superannuated
bonnets, empty bandboxes, mangy mattresses, dried herbs,
and in one corner, upon a chair, a shapeless mass, covered
with a dirty sheet, hideously suggestive of having a human
form beneath it.
All these rooms communicated with one another by
means of endless doors, and the reason why they were all
placed at the disposal of Mr. Fudge and his companion was
—as alleged by the wife of Devillebichot, who was a powerful
woman, with a cast in her eye, which made Mr. Pinchbold
feel as if she always had that organ fixed upon him—the
reason of this awful suite being at the service of the tra-
vellers was, that it had belonged formerly to her  belle-
mere.
Now, where was this belle-mere ? that was the question.
What had they done with her? Mr. Fudge suggested,
irreverently, in consequence of the outrageous manner in
which the smoke descended into the room when the fire was
lit, that the "belle-mere was up the chimney; but this
was far from relieving Mr. Pinchbold's mind. Here was a
chemist, a man conversant with poisons, and here was not
a belle-mere. It was very suggestive.
The obstruction in the chimney was of so malignant a
character, that our two Englishmen were obliged at last to
make their escape into the open air, of which element they
took many and deep draughts to clear the smoke out of
their lungs. Nothing could exceed the badness of the din-
ner of which Mr. Fudge and his friend partook at the
Grand Cerf. Everything that appeared at table had been
—to use a mild expression—too well hung, and to one in
Mr. Pinchbold's state of health, it may be conceived that
this was especially distressing. The dinner, too, was served
in a very little and very close room, full of very noisy and
D D
402
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
disagreeable bagmen, who showed an uncourteous disposi—
tion towards our two Englishmen which was very un-
mistakeable; one of them even—backed up, perhaps, by
the presence of the military in the hotel—asking Mr. Pudge
whether the English were not very much afraid of the
French nation, and seeming to take that gentleman's
indignant reply, that the English were not afraid of any-
body, as a mere figure of speech which left the matter
exactly where it was before. It was curious, too, to see
how all these men, belonging to a class generally very
particular about their comforts, were ready to put; up with
the vilest food, and to. be crammed into a little dirty room
not half big enough to hold them—it was curious, we say,
to see how patiently all this was borne because the incon-
venience was attributable to the presence of the military.
So popular is that service in the French dominions.
If the suite of apartments once; occupied by "la belle-
mere  was a dismal place of residence by daylight, it was ten
times more so when our two Englishmen returned to it
after dinner, threading their way along the endless passages
as well as they could by the aid of Mr. Fudge's lantern, by
the light of which, it may be mentioned, Mr. Pinchbold
observed what had passed unnoticed before—that there
were several trapdoors of a very horrible, long, and narrow
form in the flooring of the passages, phenomena which it.
was difficult to account for, and terrible in the last degree
to leave unaccounted for.
Nor did Mazard appear to be any better satisfied with
the quarters on which our travellers had stumbled than
his master. The suspicious way in which that sagacious-
animal sniffed about every corner of that suite of rooms-
was in itself enough to alarm anybody, while, to make-it
worse, he would start up and bark violently from time to
time, without the slightest apparent cause.
It would be difficult to define with precision what were
the peculiar advantages which Mr. Pinchbold expected to
derive from a prolonged examination of every ccrner of the
A BAD NIGHT.
403
apartments in which he and his friend were to pass the
night. Not one of the rooms within rooms, of which the
residence of the mysterious belle-mere consisted, escaped
him; but when he came to that in which the mysterious
shape covered with a sheet, of which mention has already
been made, presented its hideous outline, the poor gentle-
man's courage utterly failed him, and he retired without
having ascertained what it was which that darkly suggestive
covering concealed.
Mr. Pinchbold had a keen dread of ridicule, and could
not bring himself to tell his companion how that shapeless
mass disconcerted him. It was before him all night long,
and as he lay listening to those mysterious sounds which
we all know the darkness has the power of bringing out of
our domestic furniture, he found himself attributing them
all in some way or other to that dreadful object. There
never was anything like the way in which that furniture
of the chemist's took to cracking as soon as the lights were
put out, and Mr. Pinchbold was left alone in the stifling
recess in which his bed was made. Mr. Fudge occupied a
similar niche in the wall in a room at the other end of the
suite, and was asleep in no time. But Mr. Pinchbold lay
—his illness making him additionally nervous and sleepless
—listening to those explosions of the furniture all through
the night.
The morning light, when it came at last, found Mr.
Pinchbold a melancholy object, and as he sat up in bed
and looked towards the slowly dawning light, his worst
enemy, if he had had one, might have pitied him.
 Brotherhood of the sleepless, Mr. Pinchbold broke
out, in that mock heroic strain which introduced a comic
element into all that gentleman's complainings;  brother-
hood of the sleepless throughout the world—I greet you
this morning !
 Brotherhood of the sleepless, with heads unrefreslied,
with parched palates, with eyes that are hot and dry and
red, with sickened stomachs, with unquiet and excited
D D 2
404
A CKU1SE UPON WHEELS.
brains, with aching legs, with burning feet, with all the
vital functions resenting the beginning of a new day, whose
demands they are unequal to fulfil—with all these miseries
pressing heavily upon me at this moment—I greet you !
 Brotherhood of the sleepless, for whom this day has not
been separated from that which preceded it, but in whose
weary calendar the two form one, linked together only
by a dozen hours of black disquiet, with the memory: of
those dark hours strong upon me at this moment—I gredfc
you!
 Brotherhood of the sleepless, mingling on unequal
terms Avith those to whom the past night has been like a
thing that Avas not, so unconsciously haAre the hours passed
over their sleeping heads, who slumber through the live-
long night, and rise, indeed, like giants refreshed, fit, and
more than fit, for the duties of the day; brotherhood of
unrest, mixing with such men whose strength enables them
to sleep, and whose sleep makes them strong, in a blest re*-
action; who need not those quiet slumbers, yet find them,
Avhile you Avho need them find them not; Avith a deep
sympathy in sufferings Avhose full measure I know so Avell
—I greet you ! ;
 Brotherhood of the sleepless, who, Avhether the day
before you is to be one given to arduous duties or to enjoy-
ment, feel alike unfitted for, and incapable of both—I, Avho
on this day can neither labour nor enjoy—I, Pinchbold the
weary, Pinchbold the feverish, in one word, Pinchbold the
sleepless—I greet you !
Poor Mr. Pinchbold ! When all was ready that morning
for the start, the bill paid, the carriole at the door, he made
a pretext for returning once more to the apartments up-
stairs, and approaching Avith great caution that mysterious
heap Avhich had so terribly disturbed him, and summoning
all his courage to the task, he suddenly, with the extreme
end of his Avalking-stick, displaced that dreadful sheet, and
revealed in one moment what lay beneath.
THE MYSTERIOUS FORM,
405
Vive la Bagatelle ! It was the festal dress of shot silk,
worn by Madame Devillebichot on fete-days and great
occasions, and which was so rigid and swollen with stiff
muslin and other bulbous gear, that placed as it was in a
reclining posture on a chair, and covered over with a sheet,
it really bore a sufficient resemblance to a human form, to
have justified—in the absence of the  belle-mere"—a
certain amount of alarm in a less nervous organization than
that of Mr. Francis Pinchbold.
The travellers had but a short drive before them, the
town of Dole lying at a distance of not more than sixteen
kilometres—about twelve miles English. Both gentlemen,
as they approached the confines of the Department through
which they had been so long travelling, began to look
eagerly out for symptoms of a change in the character ot
the objects which they passed by, and were even disposed
to think that they already saw a Swiss element in the
cottages by the road-side, which had for the most part
their staircases outside the house, and were decorated with
large wooden galleries or balconies as well. At last they
came to a village, on the first house of which they read
that  begging was forbidden in the Department of the
Jura, and then they knew that they had made a great
advance indeed, and were in the last Department of the
French dominions.
One excitement followed on the heels of another. Beyond
this small village, which marked the boundary between the
Cote d'Or and the Jura, was a hill of some length, and
when at length they had reached its summit, a great expanse
of country came suddenly within their range of view, with
the Jura mountains for its limit.
In that fair and fertile plain which our two friends now
paused involuntarily to examine, in that sheltered region,
thickly grown with vines and Indian corn, and watered by
the river which winds and glitters in the valley, protected
and girt about by the great ramparts which hide and screen
the neighbouring country—in that lovely valley the tra-
406
A CRUISE TOON WHEELS.
veller takes his last impressions of Prance, as he journeys
into Switzerland, and he carries with him, as he should,
the memory of a country which seems to comprehend in
its vast extent almost every kind of climate and of produce,
as in its noble scenery there is a specimen of every beauty
which can make a land delightful.
And not the least pleasant feature in that glorious Jura
plain is the little town of Dole, to which our travellers
slowly descended when they had gazed their fill at the
beautiful scene before them. Of all the towns which they
had yet passed through, this that bore so dismal a name
was immeasurably the gayest and most delightful, and
when they had driven quite through it, and found a clean
and bright-looking hotel at its extremity, with a public
walk on a raised terrace in front of it, commanding almost
as fine a view as that which they had seen from the hill-
top—when all these agreeable features of the town of Dole
presented themselves, both Mr. Pudge and his friend were
quite disposed to congratulate themselves on its being
Saturday night, and that they were to spend the next day
in so charming a place.
Surely the inhabitants of Dole were humanized and
improved by the prettiness of their town, with its little
park planted on a platform overlooking the distant hills,
and with its zigzag walks descending to the river. The
time spent here by our travellers was very enjoyable, the
sun shining out as if it was summer, with such power that
as Mr. Fudge and his friend sat on the Sunday afternoon
on a stone bench, the lizard came out to bask, and Mr.
Fudge perceiving this and beginning to whistle in a fluent
manner peculiar to himself, there soon appeared in all
directions the heads of others of the same tribe, attracted
by the sound ; so that in a short time he was surrounded
by quite a large audience of lizards with erect heads and
glistening eyes, and hearts whose beating was visible
through the slender tissue that covered them.
The inhabitants of this pleasant town, then, seemed a
DOLE.
407
more sprightly and intelligent race than any whom our
Englishmen had yet met Avith. The inn Avas a good and
clean one, and the people Avho conducted it very civil and
obliging. Even the commis-voyageurs with whom Mr.
Fudge and his friend were brought in contact at the public
table, were unusually harmless and inoffensive specimens
of their objectionable class. They were three in number,
and Avere characterized by extreme youth—considering
their profession—and by a kind of innocent desire, con-
cealed in an absurd manner, to set up for rakes and
mauvais-sujets of the most rollicking and dangerous kind.
 The sex ! says Alexis,  ah, who can fathom the sex ;
for my part I don't profess to understand women.
 Oh, oh ! cries Gustave;  hear him, Auguste.
 As if, says the individual thus addressed,  as if all
the world did not knoAv 
"Bah! don't you talk, interrupts the first, again, "any-
body knows what sort of a reputation you enjoy.
 Figure to yourself, says Gustave;  I arrive at some
village, in the course of business, i Have you seen your
friend Auguste lately ?' I am asked, 1 all the girls here are
in love with him.' I go on to the next town, I call on
several tradesmen, the daughter of one of them slips out as
I leave the house and runs after me-—1 Shall you see Mon-
sieur Auguste soon ? if so, will you tell him I am counting
the hoius till his return ' 
 Enough, enough, says Auguste;  it is not me, it is
some other Monsieur Auguste. But hold ! I'll trouble
you for this, Gustave—who talks about me ? How about
the sign of the Lion d'Or ?
 Ah, not a word about that, interposes Gustave;  not
a Avord, I entreat, or I shall begin to talk about the widow
at Besan§on.
 Stay, for your life, rascal that you are—you respect
nothing !
 Ah ! ah ! the mauvais-sujet—before strangers, too !
 The ladies' man !
408
A CltUISE UPON WHEELS.
 Well, remarks the first speaker again,  I see I have
got into dangerous company. For my part, I've done with
all that sort of thing. Alexis might be about twenty-two,
and a very good hand at pushing business.  I leave it to
you young dandies.
 Dandies ! he talks about dandies ; who is it that has
the cambric front, and the varnished boots in his portman-
teau ?
"Who is it that was remarked for his Parisian style of
dress at the ball at Auxonne ?
 I think I know an individual who has the reputation
of being the most dressy man upon the road.
And so these youngsters would go on, with as distinct
an understanding as if it had been put into words that if
Alexis would accuse Gustave of being a roue and a buck
of the first water, Gustave would do as much for Alexis,,
while Auguste should alternately assist and be assisted by
the other two when occasion offered. The fact being, that
all three were as simple-minded and business-like youths
as ever produced a specimen of lace, or pushed hard for
"further orders.
Thethree "mauvais-sujets enjoyed themselves immensely
over their dinner, and by the time that Mr. Fudge and his
friend left the table, Gustave was pleading guilty to having
slaughtered the heart of the  daughter of the house at
the Lion d'Or, while Auguste was equally ready to own
that the widow at Besan9on was certainly enamoured of
him, and that her hand and a very snug little property in
houses were his if he liked to claim them.
409
CHAPTER XXIV.
the mountains; the great rampart of the swiss country;
the barrier between our travellers and their journey's
end; the jura chain—how shall it be crossed?
The view from the terrace walk at Dole made both our
travellers very restless. That range of mountains which
formed the horizon, and beyond which it would be neces-
sary for them to penetrate, seemed an obstacle so formid-
able that they longed to attack it, and on the evening before
they were to leave the pleasant little town at which they
had passed as they expected their last day of rest—on that
evening they stood late on the terrace, gazing with all their
eyes over the ground before them, and studying those
mountains of the Jura something as a general might study
the position taken up by the enemy with which he was on
the eve of engaging.
The day's journey which was to bring the two English-
men to the foot of that mountain range was to be a long
one. Poligny, the last town on the plain—Poligny lying
with the very back of its houses against the first moun-
tains of the Jura—was distant from Dole thirty-seven
kilometres, nearly twenty-eight miles. Mr. Fudge and his
friend began now to be well aware of the great importance
to their horse of a prolonged fnidday rest, and they deter-
mined, accordingly, to start on the morrow at an earlier
hour than they had yet done, as they wished to get into
Poligny by daylight—not a very easy thing to do at the
latter end of October.
410
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
Our two friends were now beginning to feel a great
anxiety and excitement about the solution of that grave
question which was continually in their minds—should
they get to their journey's end? It was curious to see how
this undertaking of theirs, entered on as a matter of plea-
sure, was gradually becoming a grave and serious affair
with them. If there had been some great and important
object to be gained by that journey, if there had been no
other possible means of reaching Geneva except by the
agency of their one horse's legs, these two gentlemen could
not have discussed the chances of the road more seriously
than they were now in the habit of doing. This journey,
to Poligny was to be the last of their long courses. After
that the ascent of the mountains commenced, and in those
precipitous ways they could only expect to make each day
a very short advance. That was a mysterious part of the
map, that shadowy region between Poligny and the Swiss
capital. Long as their journey had been, the greatest diffi-
culty was reserved for its termination. The tug of war was
to come at last.
Another cause of the anxiety which our two friends
could not help feeling, was furnished by the continued ill-
health of the unfortunate Mr. Pinchbold. The poor gentle-
man had constantly before him the dread of a serious lay
up, and really, to judge by his evident sufferings and by
his haggard looks, there seemed some cause for his appre-
hensions. So the reader will see that there were drawbacks
to the otherwise immense enjoyment of these two English
gentlemen, just as he would find that if he (the reader)
undertook to-morrow the enterprise of all others which
would give him the greatest possible amount of pleasure,
there would be drawbacks of some kind or other that would
keep his happiness a little in check.
The start on Monday morning having to be effected
before daylight, it was necessary to make all the arrange-
ments for it overnight. Mr. Fudge and his lantern were
here, there, and everywhere, flashing about in the stable,
BEFORE' DAYLIGHT.
411
in the courtyard, and the inn offices. For was it not neces-
sary to see Blinkers take his corn, and to look to his com-
forts for the night ? not to speak of the necessity under
which Mr. Fudge always found himself of making secret
expeditions to the stable for no other purpose than to
gloat on the beauty of the little horse, or to sit for half-an-
hour together in the manger holding conversations with
him on all sorts of important matters. At these conferences
it was not unusual for Hazard also to assist, but latterly,
and since the indisposition of Mr. Pinchbold, the dog stuck
more closely than ever to his master.
Besides seeing to Blinkers, Mr. Fudge had other matters
to look after that night. There were plenty of things to
he stowed away in the earriole, there was a necessity of
getting the account at the inn made up in order that it
might be settled overnight, and it is as difficult a thing for
people who ivant a bill to get it, as it is for those who don't
want one of these documents to escape it. Then, besides
Settling the bill, it was necessary to have some eatables left
out ready for a hasty snack at starting, and, above all, some
milk, boiled that it might keep through the night, must be
secured, or what would become of the early cup of tea;
and the early cup of tea wanting, what would become of
the travellers.
To the persistently energetic, and the politely importu-
nate, let the reader be assured, nothing in this world is
denied, and so at last it really happened, that by bed-time
Mr. Fudge and his friend found themselves with their horse
well provided for, with their bill paid, with a great bowl
of boiled milk, and some bread and butter on the table,
with all their packing completed, with the exception of
their toilet apparatus, which was on a very slender scale,
and with everything ready for action. The good-natured
wench who had been indefatigable in their service had
promised to call them at five o'clock, and they were to
start, at latest, at half-past six.
About all such preparations as this, there is a strange
412
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
kind of comfortable discomfort, and a pervading sense of
bivouac which is very exciting, and so delightful, that the
reader is to be pitied if it is unknown to him. To the
writer of this chronicle such sensations appear to be among
the most charming which life has to afford, and he heartily
envies these two gentlemen, whose adventures it is his
business to record, that short repose with the mysterious
getting up by candle-light which is to succeed it in but a
few hours.
Of course it is a safe precaution on such occasions as
this to give directions that we may be called, but it is
always unnecessary. Both Mr. Fudge and Mr. Pinchbold
having determined before they went to bed that they must
wake at a certain time, did wake at that time, and they
were both up and enjoying themselves immensely in the
shivering stage of ague, before the servant stumbled up-
stairs to wake them.
The fact is, that at this particular moment the aspect of
affairs is not exhilarating. Mr. Fudge is making fruitless
efforts to light his lantern, in order that he may go down
to the stable and see Blinkers take his corn, while Mr.
Pinchbold is engaged in an attempt to boil water in the
Etna, which might have more chance of success if he did
not, in the intensity of his abjectness, pour the water into
the saucer intended for the spirits of wine, distilling that
last named subtle essence into the interior of the vessel
intended for the reception of the water. Both gentlemen
are watched intently by Mazard, who stands with his legs
very wide apart, and who indulges from time to time in
such convulsive and at the same time protracted fits of
yawning, as threaten to dislocate his jaw.
At last, after Mr. Fudge has cracked one of the glasses
of his lantern, he manages to light it, while Mr. Pinchbold
having wasted the requisite amount of spirits of wine,
contrives at last to get the Etna into working order. Pie
then draws aside the curtain and looks out. Pitch darkness
—not a hint of day yet. The intense cold, however,
A STREAK OF DAWN.
413
predicts that it will not be long before the dawn begins to
break. Having shivered at the window for a little time,
Mr. Pinclibold next devotes himself to the task of packing
up the night and toilet requisites which had necessarily
been left out.
Those persons who are familiar with the art of packing,
will recognise as one of the most distressing things con-
nected with that occupation a certain hideous and fatal
ease with which on some special occasion the things will
fit into their places. The bag, the last time you packed it,
was crammed, and would not shut. A lump stuck out
here, a nob there, an obstinate bulginess everywhere. To-
day there is no bulginess, and the nobs and the lumps
dovetail into each other's recesses in an extraordinary
manner. What is the meaning of this? You look round
-the room, you look under the bed, you scrutinize the
washing-stand, you peer into the cupboards; no, there is
nothing left out. Things are settling down more into
their places, you suppose, and go into a smaller compass
than they did at first. That must be it. At all events,
the bag must be closed, for there is no time to be lost,
and—
 Ah ! cries Mr. Pinchbold, at such a crisis at this,  I
have been packing in my dressing-gown, my thick flannel
dressing-gown, lined and wadded; and I have forgotten
that its place is in the carpet-bag.
This is the kind of discovery which you make at the
. last moment. No wonder that the hair-brushes and the
slippers fitted in easily to their places. No wonder that
the habitual bulginess and refractoriness at the moment of
closing, usually observable in connexion with that malig-
nant valise, were no longer there. That monstrous wadge
of a dressing-gown produces all this, and now everything
has to come out again, and the whole packing process has
to be repeated.
Back comes Mr. Fudge, redolent of stable. He has
been kept about dreadfully, the ostler not to be found.
414
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
He has got hold of him at last, but the time is getting on,
and a faint streak of dawn has begun to show itself in the
eastern sky. Is the tea ready ?
Perhaps one of the most difficult achievements of modern
times is to make tea out of an Etna. The moment of pro-
jection—or of boiling—is of so short a duration, and if you
miss it, and the spirit-flame has expired, you are lost. To
blow this flame out alone is no small difficulty. It eludes
your breath in an extraordinary manner, and dodges you
round and round the tin vessel whose sides it is heating.
So that when you blow it out on one side of the Etna, it
keeps in on the other, while even if you attempt a kind of
sweeping curve with your whistle there is still a little blue
flicker which manages to escape you, and by which the
fire is presently rekindled. To blow out, then, the spirit-
flame, to take the lid off the Etna, and to pour the boiling-
water into the tea-pot, all in one and the same instant, is a
performance requiring no small amount of dexterity and
presence of mind.
Mr. Pinchbold manages, however, to effect his purpose
at the expense of no greater disaster than a slight scald,
which causes him to dance round the apartment and yell
with torture; and soon the tea is made and swallowed, and
the tea-things are replaced in the basket. The last bundles
of wrappers are got together, tAe map, the account-book,
the journal, all the inevitable things that have to be carried
separately by hand, are resolutely grappled with; and Mr.
Pinchbold and Mr. Fudge, with Mazard leading the way,
highly excited, descend the staircase of the hotel, and emerge
not without shudders, into the open air.
The day is just beginning to awaken. The twilight, so
different from the evening twilight, by reason of its vigour
and the absence of all languidness, reveals the dim outlines
of the objects in the stable-yard, and showsthe carriole drawn
out in the middle of it. Blinkers is already in the shafts, and
he is soon eagerly occupied in exchanging morning greetings
EAItfcY AVTAY.
41&
with Mazard. Now Mr. Fudge looks to the harness, and
finding not a single buckle right, promptly alters the whole
of its bearings. Now Mr. Pinchbold stows away the loose
packages, and establishes Mazard on the top of everything.
The animal is much too exeited to sit down, and the
earriole being now suddenly put in motion, is instantly
thrown off his pinnacle, which he, however, reascends
immediately; and Mr. Fudge and Mr. Pinchbold being in
their places, and the groom having received his fee, the
little party sets off, with their faces set in earnest towards-
the mountains, which some streaks of day begin at last to
show looming brown and mysterious in the distance.
Our travellers retrace their steps for a short distance
through the town, and when they have reached the middle
of the main street they turn aside, and descend towards the
river. It is market-day, and all the town, early as it is, is
astir. The tradesmen, it is true, have not yet opened their
shops, but they are evidently beginning to think of taking
that step ; and in half-an-hour the wine-shop, at any rate,,
will be in good working order, and some astute housewives
mil be on their legs feeling those of the fowls which the
market-women are bringing in in good numbers from the
neighbouring farms. Mr. Fudge and his friend meet lots
Off these women now that they have crossed the bridge, and
have got into the long faubourg outside the town.
It is a pretty scene. The sun is just rising, and pours
its veiled rays down the stream, which, at this place runs
nearly east and west. It tips the highest portions of the
 buildings about the river, while the shady regions retain
•' something of night still clinging about them; for the
■ shadows are not shadows half so much as they are patches
of might, still skulking in corners, not thoroughly routed by
the newly-awakened day. The roadway, too, is filled with
the market-people making for the town ; and there are all
sorts of queer costumes, and wonderful children, and
animals; chickens alive in coops, others that were alive
416
A CltUISE UPON "WHEELS.
last night, carried by stalwart women, who think no more
of wringing a fowl's neck than you do of decapitating a
shrimp.
The effect of all this, and of the day's rest in the quiet
stable at Dole, on Blinkers is so stimulating, that it is all
Mr. Fudge can do to keep him in order. The road is
level, and on two separate occasions, before they are clear
of the market-people, the little horse deliberately bolts, and
is only stopped by immense exertion on Mr. Fudge's part,
and perhaps by the expostulatory barking of Mazard, who
thinks it necessary to take serious notice of his friend's bad
behaviour.
But now the road diverges from the main route, leading
to Lons le Saunier, and turns off directly towards the
mountains, which, however, are not visible just now
because of a long gradual ascent which is immediately
before the travellers, and which soon takes all the bolting
tendencies out of Blinkers. The sun, too, is fairly over-
head now, and it is beginning to be hot; so that eccentric
animal is brought into a decent state of order; and would,
doubtless, behave unexceptionably if the flies did not find
such satisfactory pasturage on his round and well-filled
stomach.
The village at which Mr. Fudge had been recommended
to stop for the midday rest was, if anything, at a little less
than half the distance to Poligny, and bore the name of
Mont sous Vaudry. A hideous rumour had reached our
travellers that the landlady of the little inn at which they
were to stop had been endowed by nature with an ornament
usually the exclusive prerogative of the sterner sex, or, in
other words, was possessed of a beard of considerable size.
Both gentlemen were rendered a little nervous by this
circumstance; but the good woman turned out to be one
of the most amiable landladies they had yet encountered,
though certainly possessed of a very tolerable beard, and of
a deep and gruffly-toned voice.
It was quite early when Mr. Fudge and his friend arrived
MONT SOUS VAUDRY.
417
at Mont sous Vaudry ; and it was quite necessary to begin
at once to think about breakfast. It was easier to think
about it than to get it, and easier to get it than to eat ifr
when at last provided. Everything was, more or less,
putrescent; and what made it worse was, that throughout
the meal, the landlady—beard and all—stood by the table
watching the two friends as they ate, or rather as the}'1
starved, and would never take away their plates encumbered
with untouched food, till requested in so many words to do»
sol; when she would ask, with the air of a martyr, as she
removed the offending dish, whether that was not a style'
of cookery to which the English were accustomed ? At
last, however, they were for a time delivered from this good
lady's surveillance, a friend coming in, to whom she pro-
ceeded to narrate, with great minuteness, all the symptoms
under which her husband, who was lying very ill in the
house, was suffering. As it unfortunately happened that rf,
good many of them resembled those under which Mr,
Pinehbold also laboured, that gentleman began to think
that this plain in which they were travelling was an in-
fected land; and what with this and the wretched meal
which was provided for them, became so despondent,
that Mr. Fudge could hardly keep him together at all..
Indeed, the poor gentleman must have been suffering
pretty severely, or it is quite certain that the beardecf
lady's husband would not have escaped without one of his
favourite prescriptions.
But for Mr. Pinchbold's ill health, that day's journey'
Would have been one of almost uninterrupted pleasure.
The market-people were going into Dole when the tra-
vellers left i#in the early morning ; they were coming out
of Poligny when, towards the sun-setting, Mr. Fudge and his
companion first came in sight of that town. It was yet many'
miles off when they saw it before them at the very extremity
of the plain, the great masses of hill lying behind the town'
being now so near that it was evident that the ascent into thef
mountain district must begin immediately after Poligny.
E E
418
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS,
Mr. Pinchbold shook his head as he looked at the
prospect and then at Blinkers, who now, at the conclusion
of his day's journey, certainly manifested no inclination to
run away.
 And our way lies beyond that insurmountable-looking
barrier ? he inquired, anxiously;  how much do you
suppose there is of it ?
u I can't tell yet, was Mr. Fudge's reply;  we shall
get information at Poligny ; but I should think tliere must
be three or four days' at least of the mountains before we
descend into Geneva.
 Geneva ! echoed Mr. Pinchbold, in a dismal tone, as
if his hopes of reaching that capital were of the slenderest
■order.
Mr. Pinchbold's fears were destined to receive additional
confirmation at Poligny. It was the last station at which
the travellers had directed that letters should be sent to them,
and, accordingly, they found a tolerable collection awaiting
them at the Poste Restante. Of these not a few were
full of the direst predictions as to the probable fate that
awaited them if they attempted the passage of the mountains
without having  some one with them who understood the
country and the roads. To think of crossing the Jura
"without additional horses, or as one correspondent even
suggested,  bullocks.
Mr. Pinchbold's imagination, rendered more specially
active and sensitive by illness, was much affected by the
letters which he and his friend had received. His thoughts
ran now upon perilous descents, roads on the brink of pre-
cipices, insufficient parapets, and unfathomable abysses;
and as he thought of these things, and associated them with
■the shying tendencies of Blinkers, the poor gentleman's
nerves gained such an ascendancy, that when Mr. Fudge
left him in the inn to go and make inquiry as to the real
nature of the difficulties which lay before them, Mr. Pinch-
bold called after him to entreat that the rest of the journey
might be performed with the aid of bullocks.
ALARMING ANTICIPATIONS.
419
Mr. Fudge had another matter to attend to, however,
before he devoted himself to the bullock question. Ever
since Mr. Pinchbold had been suffering in his health, it had
been the business of his friend to secure for him before all
things that one luxury which he could at this time alone
appreciate—a cup of tea. The great obstacle in the way of
furnishing this wonderful beverage to his sick friend lay
in the difficulty of .getting milk. All the rest was, with
the . aid of the Etna , and the travelling teapot, easily accom-
plished, but the milk was hard to come at. It would, indeed,
have been possible to ask for it at the inn, but this might
lead to offers on the part of the inn authorities to provide
tea themselves, when a china teapot, full of a lukewarm
liquid, which was not tea, would be produced, preluded,
perhaps, with the announcement that there was no milk
jn the house; for as cafe-au-lait is only wanted in the
morning, and tea is not drunk in the evening, it is quite
unnecessary fo.r the inns to have milk by them Jate in the
day.
So it happened that latterly, when our travellers arrived
# a fresh place, Mr. Fudge's .first.task was .to go forth with
his basket-bottle in one pocket, his .tin funnel in the other,
and his lantern in his hand, in search of milk. And hard
enough it often was to find it. Sometimes he would be
sent quite from one end of a town to the \Other, with vague
directions as to a certain house which was the residence of
 mere Xachose, whose daughter-in-law had a cow, and
where perhaps—for there was always a doubt about it—
there might be some of the afternoon's milk left. Some-
times be would be sent up break-neck alleys, where, even
with his lantern, he could scarce keep himself from
stumbling,; sometimes he would find himself in a stable,
sometimes in a cow-house, sometimes in a cellar, but ever
with this one cry in his mouth for milk, met but too often
with a cruel shake of the head, and the response—
"Ah, sir, you will not find that to-night; to-morrow
morning, yes; but to-night, no.
e e 2
420
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
Sometimes, again, it would happen that rumours would
get abroad that an Englishman was roaming about the
town in search of milk, and strangers would accost him in
the street and direct him to the abode of a friend where he
might possibly find what he required. Something of this
sort was the case at Poligny, where as Mr. Fudge was
groping about and wandering from one house to another on
his milky way, a tailor sitting in his shop at work suddenly
sprang forth as he was passing, and entreated to know what
he was in search of.
 Follow me, said the tailor, when Mr. Fudge had ac-
quainted him with his need.
Mr. Fudge obeyed, and first they went up one street and
then down another, and then by a blind alley to a place
where a great gateway admitted them into a large courtyard,
which had perhaps once been that of the house of some
potentate of the neighbourhood. This they crossed, and
entering a small door on one side of it, they passed through
a passage and found themselves in a large bare sort of hall,
where, sure enough, were a quantity of earthenware basins
full of milk, and a man and a woman dispensing it to such
customers as came to this out-of-the-way place in search of
it.
Mr. Fudge tendered his bottle, the man who dispensed
the milk looked at it, and then at his large tin measure,
which had no lip, and he shook his head.
It was then that Mr. Fudge, with excusable triumph,
drew from his pocket his sparkling tin funnel, and stuck it
on the neck of the bottle. A burst of approbation came at
once from the man who dispensed the milk, from the woman
who assisted him, and the customers who were waiting to
be served, and who, of course, had all gathered round in an
acutely sympathizing condition; while the tailor, with the
air of a proprietor and of one responsible for the stranger's
actions, good or bad, looked proudly round about him, and
said—
 The gentleman has forethought.
POLIGNY.
421
It was dreadful, after all this, that the milk should only
come to one sous, and that there was no possible pretext
for feeing the tailor.
The information which Mr. Fudge picked up as to the
nature of the road from Poligny to Geneva, and which he
brought, together with his bottle of milk, straight to his
sick friend, was of a mixed and somewhat doubtful
character.
The distance was not great, but the mountainous nature
of the road made it necessary that the journey should be
divided into numerous stages, and that they should only
make a very small advance each day. As to the bullock
question—at mention of which Mr. Pinchbold pricked up
his ears—there was nothing to be said about it. Those
animals were seldom or never employed in these parts,
whatever might be the case on the Alps ; but it had been
suggested to him by one of the stable authorities that it
would be necessary for them to have the help of an
additional horse, while another was of an opinion that if the
travellers did not attempt long distances, even that assis-
tance would not be required.
There occurs, just before the time with which we are at
present occupied, a hiatus in those notes of Mr. Pinchbold
from which we have occasionally extracted, and his verbal
pictures of the characteristics of the room he occupies, and
his summary of the officials with whom he is brought in
■contact at the different hotels, are both occasionally inter-
rupted. At Poligny, however, Mr. Pinchbold resumes his
note-book, and we hear something of an  exceedingly aged
lady at the head of the establishment, who seems to be
•always plucking partridges by the kitchen fire, and of a
■chambermaid also very old, but possessed of amiable
manners, and kept in a state of perpetual hilarity by con-
tinual contemplation of the much more advanced age of her
mistress, suggesting the immense amount of time which she
■(the chambermaid) has yet got before her. Mr. Pinchbold
speaks of other aged women about the kitchen in great
A CRUISE UP05T "WHEELS.
numbers, -whose position it would be difficult to define with
precision.
But Mr. Pinchbold's notes are short and hurried". He
is anxious more than ever to  get on. There are those
mountains still to climb. Geneva lies beyond them: The'
long, long journey, thought of as a' day-dream in the Calais*
lodgings, is it possible that in two or three days more it.
will be an accomplished fact ?
423
CHAPTER XXV.
THE ASCENT BEGINS, AND THE TWO FRIENDS GRADUALLY MAKE
THEIR WAY INTO THE VERY HEART OF THE JURA MOUNTAINS.
ON THE FOURTH DAY, AT ABOUT NOON, THEY COME IN SIGHT
of THE ALPS!
At about ten o'clock on the morning of Tuesday, the
twenty-third of October, Mr. Fudge and his companion
took a solemn leave of the octogenarian landlady of the
inn at Poligny, and, with the whole hotel staff drawn out
to watch them, set off for Champagnole, their first resting-
place upon the hills. Their plan was to sleep at that place
on Tuesday night, on Wednesday at St. Laurent, on
Thursday at Les Eousses, on Friday at Gex, and on Satur-
day—at Geneva.
The actual distance which our travellers had noiv to
accomplish was really not more than about eighty-seven
miles, for which they had, as we have seen, given themselves
no less than five days. Nor was this allowance by any
means an extravagant one, the mountainous character of
the road being taken into consideration.
The ascent began almost before the last house in Poligny
was left behind, and after continuing for some considerable
time in a straight line, the road at length turned on itself,
and our two friends found that they had accomplished the-
first of those parallels, if they may be called so, by which
the operation of besieging a mountain is carried on. The
procession was now quite a solemn one. It was headed by
Mazard, who, adapting his movements to those of his com-
424.
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
panions, led the way at a slow pace, and turned from time
to time, as if to encourage his friend and companion in the
shafts. Blinkers seemed to derive much comfort from this
considerate behaviour of the dog, and followed closely with
the carriole. Mr. Fudge walked by his side holding the
reins, and bearing on his shoulder the drag, which was a
very clumsy one, and with its chain was of such enormous
weight that this humane gentleman considered it necessary
to relieve the little horse of such an additional burden.
Mr. Pinchbold followed behind with an immense stone,
which it was his pride to place behind the wheel whenever
the party halted for breath.
Such stoppages were very frequent, as the reader may
imagine, in an ascent of upwards of three miles and a half
cut in the mountain side. Sometimes when they halted
thus, the travellers would find themselves taking a bird's-
eye view of the town of Poligny, as the road turned so
continually on itself in its zigzags, that from many points
of the ascent they could almost have rolled a stone down to
the town as it lay at a giddy distance beneath them. Some-
times they would gain a glimpse of the great plain of
France which they were leaving behind them, and some-
times they would pause with their faces towards the
mountains, or looking down into the deep ravines whose
crevices were filled with autumn foliage descending in
pointed strips to the valley.
With these continual stoppages, sometimes after not more
than a hundred yards of progress, that long ascent seemed
almost endless. Continually, when they thought that the
whole distance must of a certainty be accomplished, they
would look up and see the zigzag lines which they had yetj.
to deal with high above their heads. Slowly they crawled
along in the order we have described, and it was not till
almost all hope had deserted Mr. Pinchbold, that a final
turn brought them in sight of a piece of straight road,
which, though still ascending, showed so far in front of
them, that there was some hope, at any rate, that the last
MONTROND
4-35
parallel of this mountain siege had been traversed. There
remained, however, a long and steep ascent in a direct line,
and beyond this a chain of smaller hills, one succeeding
another, so that by the time when the travellers had reached
the little village of Montrond, which was only about nine
miles from Poligny, it became evident to both Mr. Fudge
and his friend, that Blinkers stood in need of a rest, and
that it would not be wise to attempt to carry out their
original intention, of driving straight through to Cham-
pagnole.
They could afford a short time for repose; the first great
struggle was over, they had climbed the mountain side and
might rest awhile on the top. The rest of their day's
journey (only about eight miles) was chiefly on the level to
which they had attained, with a descent at the end of it,
the little town of Champagnole lying in a great valley
among the hills.
It was one of the small annoyances connected with a
midday stoppage, that the people at every little roadside
inn where our travellers were inclined to put up their
horse, and did not want to put themselves up also, would
always importune them to come into the house and spend
the hours of repose there rather than in the open air. It
is a characteristic of provincials all the world over to love
being in-doors, and to abhor out-door pursuits and fresh
air—a good instance, by the bye, of that general perversity
of things which stares us so continually in the face in the
course of our progress through this vale of tears.
The proprietors of the auberge at Montrond were par-
ticularly importunate in forcing their hospitality upon our
travellers, and would really not take  No for ah answer
in the matter, till Mr. Pinchbold, observing a very small
ruin, about the size of a large arm-chair, on the top of a
green mound at a little distance, and looking like a decayed
stump in a toothless jaw, announced that he and his friend
Were bent on going to inspect the castle.
 What castle ? shrieked the landlady.
4 26
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
Mr. Pinchbold pointed to the decayed tooth.
The astonishment of the landlady knew no bounds;
 That a castle—why,, nobody had ever been to see it since
she had kept the inn. She had lived in that village forty
years, and she had never been to see it; her husband, her
children—'nobody had ever been to see it; it was incon-
ceivable.
It was an unlucky hit of Mr. Pinchbold's, and his harm-
less ruse to get away from the inn was cruelly rewarded.
The landlady having exhausted her powers of persuasion in
trying to induce the two friends not to go to the castle; and
finding it all of no avail,, next harassed them with offers of
a guide.  Her children, who, by the bye, she had just
said had never been to the spot,  her servant-maid, she
herself, her husband, all the village would go.
These friendly overtures our two friends heard echoing
in the distance as they fled before them, and casting them-
selves down at length upon the turf which covered the
circular mound from which the- village took its name,
abandoned themselves to repose. But they had not quite
done with the castle even yet, for on their return to the
inn, when the time came for resuming their journey, they
Were besieged with questions about this grievous old frag-
ment of masonry; and when they frankly owned that they
had not been to see it after' all, their conduct in leaving
Montrond without seeing the castle was regarded with
quite as much astonishment as had attended their proposal
to visit it.
 What! they had come all the way from Pbligny to see
the ruin, and were going back without ?
"No, they were not going back, said Mr. Fudgey
 they were going away—going on to Ghampagnole.
"What! going away altogether without seeing ity
leaving that part of the country, perhaps, for some con-
siderable time ?
 Yes, Mr. Fudge said;  probably for a very consider0-
able time.
THE GREAT VALLEY.
427
 And going without visiting the town of Montrond!
Oh, surely it was impossible; it could not be,"'—by this
time the travellers were in the carriole again,—"they
would think better of it"—Mr. Fudge had taken the reins
—"they would dismount, they would put up the horse,
they would repair their mistake.
 As soon think of repairing the castle, said Mr. Fudge,
as he and his friend drove off, throwing a franc to the land-
lady's little boy, that he might not lose anything by not
having officiated as their guide, and leaving the whole
household in a profound state of astonishment at their
arrival, at their departure, at everything, in short, con-
nected with them.
A valley of immense extent, a great plain with hills all
round and beyond it, forests of firs lit up and clothed with
a royal robe of purple by the evening sun, which turned
to gold the distant villages, scattered here and there, in
different parts of this great and beautiful valley, such was-
the prospect which burst upon the travellers as they reached
a certain ridge of hill late in the afternoon of their first
day among the mountains. One of those golden villages—
the largest, with some pretensions to be called a town—
was Champagnole, their resting-place for the night; and to
it, after a brief pause to do justice to the wonderful scene
before them, they descended, arriving there just as the
darkness began to settle down on the valley, and the water-
mists to rise from the river which coursed through the town.
Few things are more discouraging to a tired horse than
to find at the close of a day's march that he is passing
through the whole length of a town, and that to all ap-
pearance he is not going to stop at any one of the houses
which he leaves behind him so reluctantly. The inn at
which our travellers had been recommended to pass the
night at Champagnole lay quite outside the town, and at
the other end of it from that by wrhich they had entered.
There was even a little bit of country, a turn in the road,
and a bridge over the river to be traversed before the hotel
428
A CRUISE UPON "WHEELS.
was arrived at, and the despair of Blinkers may be imagined
when he found himself called upon at that late hour thus
to abandon, as it appeared, the town where he had calcu-
lated on passing the night. It may have been that this
was the reason why, when the inn was at last reached, this
eccentric animal repeated once more the performance by
which he had distinguished himself before at Villeneuve-
sur-Yonne, on the memorable occasion when Mr. Pinchbold
rushed so courageously to his head, and arrested him in full
career.
On this occasion, however, Mr. Pinchbold was out of the
way, having gone upstairs immediately on his arrival to lie
down, for the poor gentleman was still suffering hugely
from indisposition. Mr. Fudge was assisting the ostler to
undo the harness, when the little horse taking fright at
something or other, or perhaps anxious to make short wrork
of it, suddenly bolted, with the carriage attached to him by
a single strap.
There seemed really more danger of some disaster at this
time than on the two previous occasions when Blinkers had
bolted in the same manner, for there was at the end of the
long enclosure, before the inn door, a dead wall, towards
which he was now galloping with all his might. The
groom, who was nearer to his head than Mr. Fudge, hung
011 to the bit resolutely, but he was powerless to stop the
now thoroughly frightened animal, and was dragged along
at a terrific pace. Mr. Fudge, following at the top of his
speed, gave up all for lost as he saw the carriole getting
nearer and nearer to the Avail, and there is no doubt that
at this particular moment there flashed into his mind—for
thought mo\res quicker than even a runaAvay horse—a
conviction that both horse and carriage Avould certainly be
dashed to pieces, and that the journey begun at Calais
would end at Champagnole instead of Geneva.
There is no doubt that this conviction would have been
verified but for the presence of mind and knowledge of his
calling displayed at this time by the ostler, Avho, finding
CHAMPAGNOLE.
429
himself now within a few feet of the wall, suddenly had
recourse to the last desperate expedient of seizing the
turbulent Blinkers by the nose, and so stopping, by a
violent pressure, his breath and his progress together at one
and the same moment.
As it was, the sudden stoppage was not effected without
a mighty and alarming crash, the carriole having gained
such an impetus that the splash-board was brought into
violent collision with the suddenly-arrested horse, and
being made of wood was splintered in all directions in an
instant. Wonderful to relate, there was no further damage
done. Blinkers' head was not six inches from the wall
when Mr. Fudge arrived at the scene of action, and there
is no doubt that if the groom had not succeeded in stopping
him when he did, both the horse and the carriole must have
been seriously injured if not rendered utterly useless.
To inspect both carefully all over by the aid of his
lantern, was Mr. Fudge's first act after acknowledging the
share which the ostler had had in the recent transaction.
His next was to hasten into the inn and reassure Mr.
Pinchbold.
 I had a presentiment, said that gentleman, who had
heard the noise made by Blinkers' escapade— I had a pre-
sentiment, he said, turning towards Mr. Fudge as he
entered the room,  that we should never reach Geneva.
Mr. Fudge lost no time in informing his friend that as
far as he could at present tell, there seemed every reason to
think that this sinister foreboding might be safely disre-
garded. He spoke, however, to little purpose. Mr. Pinch-
hold's faith in his own presentiments was never shaken by
anything of so little importance as their not coming strictly
true. Besides, sometimes they did come true, for a gentle-
man who predicts every morning of his life that something
unpleasant will happen in the course of the day is pretty
sure to find his foretellings come right at last.
It was a curious thing to observe, that now that Mr.
Pinchbold had got out of the region which might be called
480
A CItUISE UPON WHEELS.
France proper, and up among the hills was inhaling an
atmosphere that had something of Switzerland in it, he had
parted in a great measure with all those feelings of alarm
with which he used to regard, when in the heart of France,
the people and the inns Avhich he and his friend were
brought in contact with. The fact is that France is a
truculent-looking country, and its inhabitants are a
ferocious and alarming race, as far, at any rate, as appear-
ances go; a grave people, little given to jests and laughter,
a fierce and independent people, with whom it is necessary
to be .much more on one's guard, and to adopt a more con-
ciliatory tone than with the civil, not to say obsequious
lower classes of our own amiable island. It may hav.e been,
too, that Mr. Pinchbold's -decreased anxiety in connexion
with terrors of an imaginary kind may have been attribut-
able to his having some real cause for discomfort in the
illness under which he was suffering.
That illness was not destined to be of much longer dura-
tion. The town of Champagnole was in a valley, and
Poligny lay, as we have seen, completely sunk in a hole
beneath the mountains. This had been much against Mr.
Pinchbold's recovery, but the travellers were soon to rest
on higher ground on the hill-tops instead of in the valleys.
There are mountain breezes which seem to blow illness
away from us as a blight might fly before a tornado.
The inn at Champagnole was not a bad one. It was
true that the fowl—an article of diet on which our friends,
since Mr.Pinchbold had been in ill-health, invariably dined
—was characterized by that peculiar toughness which
suggests its having been cooked with the vital warmth yet
in it. But what was -this ? The rooms were clean, and
the waiting-woman polite and obliging. It was at this inn
that a dog, the counterpart in all respects of Mazard, made
his appearance, suddenly, at the moment when the tough
fowl was brought in for dinner, on which occasion it became
evident that each of these animals considered himself deeply
injured by the existence of the other, a sentiment which
CHAHPAGXOLE.
431
they lost no time in making generally known, "by becoming
suddenly stiff and rigid all over, by converting their hair
into erect bristles, and by giving vent to certain deep-
seated snarlings, very terrible to listen to. The hotel dog
was removed before bloodshed had taken place, but he
came back in the dead of night and encamped outside
Mr. Pinchbold's bed-room door, at which he scratched and
snorted alternately till it was time to get up next morning.
The morning of our 'travellers' second day among the
mountains—the morning of Wednesday, October the 24th
-—broke bright and clear, and the air was so exhilarating,
that even in spite of his bad night, which had been partly
occasioned by the circumstances narrated in the preceding
paragraph, Mr. Pinchbold felt better already. The good
gentleman, however, looked rather blue when he observed
the shattered condition of the splash-board, and asked Mr.
Fudge what he thought of their chance of getting t© Geneva
with an animal capable of such conduct as this? Mr.
Pinchbold farther stated that for his part  he had a pre-
sentiment, and was understood, indistinctly, to utter the
word 11 oxen.
The shortness of the .distance to St. Laurent—not much
more than sixteen miles—and the necessity of getting to
the village in time to have the splash-board mended the
same afternoon, caused Mr. Fudge and his companion to
come to the determination of driving straight through and
taking no midday rest, a resolution in whieh they were con-
firmed by the intelligence which they received at Cham-
pagnole, that they had no very great ascent or descent before
them during the day's journey.
For some time the road wound (always slightly ascend-
ing) round the great valley on which the travellers had
looked down the preceding evening ; but after a time they
came quite to its extremity, and entered a pass among the
rocks, one of those roads which seem cut in the side of a
ravine, with the steep cliff on one side and the preeipioe on
43a
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
the other, with a mountain stream rushing along in the
depths below. By and bye, they came to a lofty bridge of
a single arch, with less parapet than might have been
desired by one of our party, and then they crossed to the
other side of the stream, and crept along with the rock
still above them on one side, and the precipice below On
the other. After some miles of such travelling they crossed
the stream again, and emerging out of the pass, came to a
more open character of the hill country, which continued
the same, till tolerably early in the afternoon they found
themselves at their destination—a bare-looking village,
situated, however, in a fair country, with lovely hills in
the distance all around it.
Among these hills the two friends spent a pleasant after-
noon, while the injury done to the carriole was being
repaired by the local smith. It was a curious thing that at
this particular stage in their journey a new phase seemed to
have come over it. The houses in the village, perhaps,
had broader eaves, or there was something different in the
look of the people ; but certain it Avas, that up among those
hills they felt a sort of atmosphere of a new country, and
kneAV that their voyage was drawing near to its end. The
inn, too, was a bustling, restless place; the stable was full
of horses, and many a compact caleche was housed in the
yard—such as are used in this hilly country by those who
are obliged to frequent its roads. The road—the deserted
road—was not quite deserted here, for there was no railway
to supersede it; and so the inn was full of travellers, and
all through the night and morning the hours were marked
by departures and arrivals. The landlord himself was a
man whom you never looked at without feeling as if it was
four in the morning, and you had just got up to start on a
journey—a thin, wiry man, with a courier's cap always on
his head, who made our travellers feel really that the end
Avas near when he informed them that from that place it
was only about fifty-three miles to Geneva! It was
"Wednesday evening—Thursday—Friday—Saturday.
ST. LAURENT.
433
Mr. Pinchbold seems to have been inspired with new
hope and new energy at this place, not only furnishing in
his diary the description quoted above of the landlord, but
recording also that the service of the inn was conducted by
a member of the glorious tribe of the  good-natured
wenches, who did nothing but bow and never spoke ; that
there seemed to be no landlady, but that a young lady
occasionally appeared pervading the premises, who may
have been the landlord's daughter.
Here Mr. Pinchbold, to whom this is doubtless a painful
subject, reminding him as it must of the tragedy of Mont-
bard, breaks suddenly off and occupies himself with a
description of his bedroom, which, in consequence of the
fulness of the inn, he is compelled to share with his friend
Mr. Fudge.  The room, he says,  is large; the two
beds are placed in a line against the wall, with festoons of
drapery above them. There is a chimney-board, with a
picture upon it of "William Tell killing the tyrant Gesler,
while the paper on the walls is ornamented with little
landscapes of the Italian pattern—pine trees, bridge, pea-
sants, stream, rocks, and distant mountains—alternating
with little sea-pieces, showing a boat (rig unknown) scud-
ding along at a tremendous pace, and about to dash against
a turret built out into the sea for the express convenience
of captains of a suicidal tendency.
After a good night's rest and an excellent breakfast,
there being absolutely something to be had at this delightful
inn dimly suggestive of a cup of tea, our travellers took
leave of their landlord, who had evidently not taken off
his clothes all night, and, with many directions as to the
road, started for a certain village perched up high among
the mountains, and bearing the name  Les Pousses.
The directions which Mr. Fudge and his companion had
received as to their road left two routes open to them, one
by which they might cross the Swiss frontier immediately
after leaving Les Pousses, and descending the mountains to
Nyon, proceed by the side of the lake to Geneva ; while by
F F
434
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
the other, they would keep on the French side of the
boundary line, and only cross it on the last day of their
journey between Gex and Geneva. It was this last route
which our two Englishmen determined on adopting. The
fifty-three miles yet to be executed were divided then.
There was, first of all, their present day's journey, from St..
Laurent to Les Kousses, a distance of fifteen miles, but
with a tremendous declivity, and an ascent of some six
miles in the course of it; there was next the journey from
Les Rousses to Gex, twenty-four miles, with the great
descent from the Jura mountains into the plain; while on
the third day, there was simply a fourteen-mile drive on a
flat surface into the Swiss capital.
The descent of the valley of Morez began very soon
after St. Laurent. It was very long, but the road was so
admirably engineered that there was very little steepness
in it, and beyond an occasional stoppage to ease Blinkers'
shoulders, and to shift the drag from one wheel to the
other, there was little to mark the descent, which brought
them lower and lower into a richly wooded ravine, at the
very lowest point of which, and by the side of the stream
which runs through it, is built the little town of Morez.
To this place both Mr. Fudge and his friend took instantly,
a strong aversion. To begin with, although it was. now
the 25th of October, the sun was blazing down upon this,
valley with almost intolerable force; there was no air
stirring, and a perfect host of horse-flies seemed to infest
the borders of the stream. Then there was a strange and
unnatural bustle and fussiness about the place, and every-
thing was done in the street. But what was worst of all
was, that in this place the carriole was within an ace of
being upset by a most determined shy on the part ot
Blinkers, who meeting a boy mounted on a sort of veloci-
pede, as it appeared, in the middle of this valley, and
seized with horror (in some degree justified by so un-
hallowed a vision), flew suddenly to the side of the road,,
turning round so completely, that as Mr. Fudge sat looking,
THE LONG ASCENT.
435
straight before him, the horse was positively out of sight;
nor could he by any possibility have been got round again,
or at all pacified and reassured, if two men had not happened
to be passing along the road, who went to his head, and,
after some trouble and loss of time, managed to get him into
the right direction once more.
Out of this  detested vale of Morez it was the ambition
of our travellers to hasten with all convenient speed ; so as
they had only come about eight miles, and as seven more
would bring them to Les Eousses, they resolved to push
slowly, but steadily, on to their destination. The ascent
before them was the longest they had yet encountered, no
less than six miles, and it was desirable to have plenty ol
daylight in which to accomplish it.
Long as it was, it was not however so steep as that which-
they had conquered on entering the Jura, mountains above
Poligny; for had it been so, it would scarcely have been
possible, with the additional length, to have accomplished it
unassisted. The road was a triumph of engineering; inch
by inch, and foot by foot, it slowly and gradually rose, no
one space of fifty yards appearing, as far as the eye could
judge, to be steeper by a foot than the fifty yards which
preceded it. This was not a zigzag or corniche road, but
one of continuous advance. Rising at first straight out of
the ravine, it kept for a time along the side of the great
wall of rock which formed the left portion of the valley *
but, by-and-by, it turned, and passing behind a vast isolated
mass of rock, through which the way must have been cut
with difficulty, it emerged quite suddenly on a valley of
enormous extent, enclosed in a semicircle of rugged hills,
sweeping round in so large and even a curve that the tra-
vellers could see before them an immense stretch of the
road by which they had to travel hewn in the very wall
of this Titanic colosseum. That road, reduced on the
opposite side of this great valley to a mere white thread,
was at last lost in the woods, with which a great part of the
mountain-side was clothed.
F F 2
436
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
How slowly they wound along that mighty semicircle !
Had any one been by to watch their progress, that little
black speck might have seemed as if it hardly moved at all,
so slight and gradual was its advance. All this time the
.ascent never ceased—no, not for so much as a foot of
ground, nor was there one single yard over which they
could move at a pace faster than a walk. Some notion
may be formed of the nature of the difficulties of that day's
journey, when it is mentioned that though the travellers
left St. Laurent at half-past ten, with only sixteen miles to
do, the sun had set when at last they arrived at the foot of
the huge crags which bear the name of Les Rousses.
What shall ever displace, or what even weaken, in the
mind of either of those two travellers, the recollection
stamped on the eye's memory for ever of that glorious
valley, down which the sunlight streamed towards them in
such force that it seemed like some blazing chasm, whose
end was in the setting sun.
At Les Rousses there is a great frontier fortress piled up
on the tops of the rocks. Concerning the length of time
during which it has been in progress, the amount of the
garrison kept there, and the exact object with which this
fortress was placed in its present position, we will not say
one single word, simply because a statement of such par-
liculars would be entirely out of keeping with the general
nature and tendency of the present volume.
There was but one room, with a dark recess, or alcove,
in it, however, containing a second bed, to be had at the
inn, which was a small establishment enough, bearing the
name of La Croix Blanche. One of the most wonderful
things connected with this inn was, that the ostler was a
man evidently constitutionally afraid of horses, and wholly
ignorant, also, of everything connected with them. It was
quite pitiable to see the state of abject terror into which
this official, who might have been about seventy years of
age, was thrown by Mr. Fudge's announcement that, in
consequence of Blinkers' peculiar habits, some care was
les rousses.
437
necessary in taking him out of the shafts. Indeed, so much
care did he take that there really seemed some probability
that the little horse would never get out of them at all;
and there is no doubt that if the door of the stable had
been large enough, Blinkers would have been taken into it
carriole and all. This singularly misplaced individual
never came near any of the horses in the stable without the
most manifest terror; and when his duties took him
amongst them, endeavoured in the most moving manner to
disarm their malignity by all sorts of soothing sounds and
conciliatory gestures and words. The good-natured wench
—for there was here another member of this glorious sister-
hood—who came to milk her cow in a corner of the stable,
was altogether of another type, and evidently cared not a
button for the heels of the horses. This young lady waited
on our travellers at their evening meal, and brought a fine?
perfume of the stable in with her whenever she entered.-
She was assisted by the landlady herself, who was a young
woman, brisk and sturdy, with a smart cap and a bright
green gown, and plenty to say for herself.
The man who lived in a chronic agony from fear of the
animals with whom a cruel destiny continually mixed him
up, had informed our travellers that there were some
formalities which it would be desirable for them to go
through the next morning before leaving this frontier town,
so they both got up at an early hour, and it was not long
before the poor ostler was relieved of one of his sources of
alarm in the shape of the formidable Blinkers. It was a
beautiful and bright morning, and the thin clear air up on
these altitudes was what some deluded persons would call
as exhilarating as champagne. Champagne, indeed! If
champagne would make one feel as our travellers felt that
morning—for this mountain air and a course of plain diet
together, had made quite another man of Mr. Pinchbold—-
if champagne would make a man feel that mere existence
was a joy and delight, that the licence to live, and move',
and breathe was happiness enough—if champagne would
438
A CRUISE TTECra WHEELS.
make one forget the crimes of civilized life, or remember
them with philosophy and mercy—if champagne would give
one such a strong tranquillity of mind that ingratitude and
servile fawning, and purse-proud insolence, should no longer
be able to find one vulnerable point of access—if champagne
-could do this, then would he who is now writing these
words send out for a pint bottle without delay, and have a
desperate debauch at once.
There is some little delay in leaving Les Rousses, caused
by the formalities spoken of overnight by the incapable
ostler. It seems that in the event of its being necessary
for the horse and carriole to re-enter France from Switzer-
land, after having once crossed the frontier, certain duties
of rather a heavy nature would be levied by the French
1 Government, unless the owner of these chattels is provided
with a paper of readmission, which he must take out set
Les Rousses before leaving the Emperor's dominions.
But what an amount of fuss, and what intricacies of
mystery and formality are involved in the acquirement of
this simple paper. What captious men has Mr. Fudge to
■ encounter, what suspicious officials come out into the road
to examine the horse and carriole, and to take notes of
their external characteristics ! What machinery is brought
out to take the horse's height, what shoutings take place of
proper names, the man who is wanted for every particular
purpose being always away and requiring to be fetched;
what signings and counter-signings, and bandying about of
Mr. Fudge from one office to another; and finally, what
marvellous payment of petty fees—the whole amounting to
eleven sous—what prodigies in all these different ways are
performed before at last our travellers are put in possession
of the document which will enable them, if they feel
inclined, to bring the carriole and Blinkers back into the
French dominions free of the frontier dues.
It was well they rose early, for all these arrangements
have taken so long that Mr. Pinchbold, sitting all the time
AMONG THE MOUNTAINS. 439
in the carriole, has had time to get quite nipped and frozen
with the morning air, lor it is the twenty-sixth of October
now, and the mornings are cold and frosty. The travellers
have a long day's journey before them, it being a matter of
some four-and-twenty miles to Gex, where they are to
sleep if they can get there, and the great descent out of the
mountains into the plain being part <of the day's work.
This descent lay immediately beyond a place called La
, Fauqille, where they were to take their midday rest.
This La Fa^ille seemed really to be almost unattainable.
The road by which Mr. Fudge and his friend were tra-
veiling was one of such great beauty as to beguile its
length, but still, when they had been upwards of three
hours pursuing its windings as it followed the course of the
rocks in the side of which it was cut, they began to feel
some uneasiness, and the more so that there was now not
even an occasional cottage by the wayside, as there had
been in some other parts of the road, nor anything in the
shape of a village to be seen. So that, in spite of the
beauty of the road overhung with trees, and keeping now
for the most part a tolerably even level, the minds of our
travellers were disturbed.
 I am afraid, said Mr. Pinchbold,  that we have made
some mistake ^ if we had been on the right road, it is
impossible but that we must have reached La Fauijille
before this.
 I begin to think so too, was the reply of Mr. Fudge;
"the distance has really seemed interminable.
It was just at this moment that the travellers came to
one of those changes in the line of route which occur not
unfrequently in mountainous countries, when the road
seems to pass from one side of the mountain which it is
coasting to the other, the turn being at so sharp an angle,
that the traveller, after taking it, journeys in a direction
almost exactly the reverse of that which he was pursuing
on the other side of the wall of rock.
440
A CRUISE UPOI? WHEELS.
This turn in the road revealed in one instant, and only
at a few yards' distance, an inn of tolerable pretensions,
and one or two other houses by the wayside.
 I suppose this is La Fau^lle, then, after all ? said Mr.
Fudge, as he noted these revelations.
Mr. Pinchbold made no answer, and Mr. Fudge, looking-
hastily round at him, saw that his friend had raised himself
slightly from his seat, and was gazing out on the road
before them with such fixed intensity, as caused Mr. Fudge
involuntarily to look in the same direction.
 What—look—what are they ? asked Mr. Pinchbold,
speaking in a breathless voice, and laying his hand on his
companion's arm.
Mr. Fudge drew the rein tightly, hardly knowing what
he did, and the carriole stopped.
 Are they clouds ? continued Mr. Pinchbold, in the
same tone.
Our travellers seemed now to have reached the top of
everything, and had, indeed, climbed to a high place on
the Jura mountains. From the point where they stood
the road began slightly to slope downwards, and turning
by-and-by to the right it was lost over the brow of an
abrupt descent.
A little to the left of this turn, and consequently exactly
opposite the position occupied by the two Englishmen,
there was at a distance of two or three hundred yards a
great opening or chasm in the rocks, which rose on either
side of it to a great altitude. The chasm was shaped like
the letter Y. Beyond that chasm there was nothing to be
seen.
Nothing? What is that vast sea of dense white, ex-
tending—flat as the surface of a lake—for miles and miles
away; and yet miles itself from the opening in the rocks
between which it shows so strangely ? What is that ?
And over it, in the remoter distance yet, what forms are
those that rise above the dense white sea ? What are those
THE SURPRISE.
441
vast spectral shapes that show so faint, and. yet so clear, so
distant, yet so plain ? Are they clouds ?
No; no clouds, though like those forms in shape and
colour have ever looked like that; no clouds have hung so
still, no clouds proclaimed such silence all round; no clouds
have struck two human souls with awe and dread such as
lay upon the hearts of those two Englishmen, who almost
fear to break the stillness as they say together in the hushed
voices of those who speak before the dead—
 The Alps !
It would be difficult—impossible, perhaps,—to convey to
the reader any idea of the effect of the vision imperfectly
described in the last chapter, upon the two gentlemen whose
fortunes we have been following so long. It is but once in
a, lifetime, sometimes, perhaps, not that, that men can feel
such sensations. Travelling by that road on the diligence
with many companions, arriving at La FaiKplle from
Switzerland instead of from France, coming upon this scene
even at a time when the rare atmospheric phenomena
witnessed by our travellers should be wanting-—all would
be spoilt.
There may have been something, too, in the mere fact
that these two Englishmen came upon this wonderful sight
without any preparation, and had not been told that they
would come into the presence of the Alps that day at all.
Be this as it may, the fact must be recorded, that this sight
was more than they could bear to look on, and that they
both, by mutual consent, went aside into the house to
recover themselves a little, as a man with his hand upon the
coffin-lid of his friend might turn away for a time to gather
strength before he looked upon the dead.
442
CHAPTER XXVI.
the last. the descent from the heights; its length and
steepness. above the clouds. arrival in the plain after
six miles of descent. the feat accomplished—and the
end.
When Mr. Fudge and his companion went forth at last to
examine more minutely the extraordinary view from La
Faujille, they were almost more astonished than they had
"been at first by what they saw. Advancing to the opening
-of the huge chasm which has been mentioned, they were
able to see more completely, but not to understand better,
the nature of the scene before them. They seemed, as has
been said above, to be at the top of everything. The
ground before them, as they looked through the aperture in
the rocks, descended almost precipitously, and far on either
side of them there was nothing to be seen but the sloping
sides of the chain of mountains, of which the ground they
were upon formed a part. Here and there they were able to
detect the long thin lines of the immense zigzag by which
their own descent from the mountain was to be accom-
plished. From the point at which they stood this looked
formidable enough. But the incomprehensible part of it all
was, that at one particular level, it was impossible to say how
far below them, the whole view was stopped quite abruptly
(the mountain-sides disappearing, and all indications of the
road being utterly lost), in that vast and unintelligible white
plain which stretched from half-way down the mountains
on which they were standing, completely hiding everything
beneath it for miles and miles, to that distant region where
ABOVE THE CLOUDS.
443
the Alps rising above it showed like the mockery of the
mirage, hanging unsupported in the sky.
These mountains were separated from the world by that
sheet of white. What could it be ? How soft, how fleecy,
how undulating, yet how flat was its surface. What was
beneath it ? Not human life, surely, yet there was no
tract on the map of uninhabited ground so large as this.
Was there water under it ? The lake, perhaps, the Lake
of Geneva.
It happened that while Mr. Fudge and his friend were
lost in these speculations, a peasant and his wife came
labouring up the hill, and from them our travellers were
able at last to learn the secret of those snowy plains.
They were clouds. The two Englishmen had climbed
and climbed, and laboured and. laboured on, till they had
got to be above the vapours that hang over the earth, and
were looking down upon the clouds. Not only was there
human life below that veil, but they themselves, if all went
well, would sleep beneath it that very night.
And now the thought of getting on once more asserted
its potent sway over both our travellers. The difficulty before
them, that great descent, seemed to beckon them on. The
thought that they were in a manner above the clouds, and
had got to descend to them, was suggestive of such a work
to do that neither of our friends could now rest or be at
peace till it was accomplished.
The final instructions are taken at La Fa^ille as to the
route ; the six miles of descent are described by the ostler;
the steep part above the Napoleon fountain, the less abrupt,
but longer declivity below it, are all set before them; and
soon after two o'clock in the afternoon the authorities
at the little inn bid them good speed, and they are off. It
is their last difficulty on the road. From Gex to Geneva
the way lies on a dead level.
The descent begins almost immediately. After passing
the great opening in the rock—which has been -already
mentioned—the road turns away to the right, as if it were
444
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
some wary mountain animal, "which has looked over the
edge of this chasm, and having decided that it will not do,
has turned aside to seek a more practicable path. The
incline is now excessively steep ; and both Mr. Fudge and
his friend (and Mazard, of course, who seems a good deal
impressed with the importance of the occasion) have de-
scended from the carriole. Mr. Fudge has secured the
reins, and walks by Blinkers' head, encouraging him, from
time to time, with cheery cries; while Mr. Pinchbold is
ready on the other side to supply a huge stone (of which
there are plenty on the bank) when it is necessary to relieve
Blinkers' shoulders by a stoppage. The off hind-wheel is
locked of course, and looks as a wheel with the drag on
always does, the embodiment of obstinacy.
At first the road is thickly wooded, and the trees hide the
immensity of work which lies yet before the travellers; but
in a short time they emerge upon the open mountain side,
and see before them some portion of the immense line of
steep zigzags which they have got to traverse; but the
clouds are still so far below that they cannot trace the road
that leads down to them; the sun is shining here, and the
blue sky is overhead. What is it like, the friends ask each
other, beneath the clouds below there ?
They can now see the great wall of the Jura mountains
on the Swiss side. Indeed, there is nothing to be seen at
all but the craggy side of these mountains, and of the Alps
in front, and they all rest upon a white plain 0/ cloud, and
seem to grow out of it.
The stoppages to rest are frequent, for Blinkers is a good
deal distressed, and there are places where the descent is so
abrupt that the carriole looks as if it would topple over
him. Sometimes, after a short rest, the poor beast seems
hardly to have courage to begin again, and'puts down his
fore feet so timidly that one would say he was feeling his
way in the dark. Mr. Fudge is at his head at these times,
and even pushes at the shaft to try and keep the carriage
back. Mr. Pinchbold tugs at the locked wheel occasionally
THE DESCENT.
445
with noble intentions and doubtful results; while Mazard,
true to his mission of sustaining and comforting his less
intellectually-gifted friend, keeps his position just in front
of Blinkers, and now and then will canter a few paces,
evidently with the intention of convincing the little horse
that the declivity is not such a serious affair as he seems to
think it; a matter, however, concerning which Blinkers
(perhaps because he has got the carriole behind him) ^s of
a different opinion.
- It takes a long time to traverse even that first zigzag, and
as the little group slowly advances, the steepness of the
descent seems almost to increase; and as Mr. Pinchbold
looks back, and feels how impossible retreat would be, or
looks on and sees what is involved in further progress, it
seems really excusable that he should wish that, at any
rate, they were at the Napoleon fountain, or could get
within hail of those still distant clouds. Mr. Fudge re-
membered Blinkers' tumble on the road to Dijon—his
knees showed traces of it, though only in a twisted growth
of the hair—and he felt also that an extreme of caution and
great patience were necessary if they would reach the plain
that evening without an accident.
 If we can only get to the foot of the mountain while
daylight lasts, said Mr. Fudge,  I shall be satisfied.
It was a grand time after all. To men who have spent
half their lives in London streets, where the houses over
: the way so confine and imprison your range of view that
you almost doubt at last whether there is anything but
■ Baker-street in the world, and whether Mrs. Jennings, who
lets lodgings, and wears a black cap as she stands at the
. window, is not to limit your look-out for life—to men who
have lived among such surroundings it is something more
glorious than these poor words can tell to spend a day upon
. the mountain side, with mountains behind and on each
side of you, with the blue sky above, and that white veil
. beneath, and the mighty Alps for your opposite neighbour.
By such slow progress as we have described, with
446
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
frequent rests, when Mr. Pinehbold's stone was put in.
requisition, the first division of the descent, that portion
which was above the Napoleon fountain, was achieved
safely. The Napoleon fountain is hardly, by the bye,
deserving of so grand a name, and is, in truth, little more
than a stone tank, placed by the roadside by the first
Napoleon. Even from this point, after a continuous and
abrupt descent of about a couple of miles, it seemed, unless
the travellers looked up at the heights above them, as if
they had done nothing, so much remained still before them,
and so far especially did it still seem to the clouds beneath.
Blinkers was by this time a good deal blown, and evi-
dently considerably fatigued in the shoulder joints, but it
was fortunate that though by far the largest part of the
descent remained still unaccomplished, the declivity was,
as the ostler at La Fau§ille had predicted, a more gradual
one after the Napoleon fountain had been passed. It was-
still steep enough to cause Mr. Pinchbold considerable
dismay, and to make Mr. Fudge himself feel anxious as he
watched the somewhat uncertain footfall of the gallant but
weary Blinkers.
Our travellers were pursuing their way, after the manner
already described, making fewer halts now that the road
was less steep, but still both of them walking by the side of
the carriole, when they were overtaken by a man with a
Gart, whom they had observed for some time descending the
road above them, and who they now noticed was observing
them with some curiosity and surprise.. At length he
seemed able to master his feelings—whatever they were—
no longer, and pulling up his horse, and getting down, he
sent the animal—who appeared well able to take care of
itself—on alone, and came and walked by Mr. Fudge's side
staring at him in a kind of stupid way, which was not un-
suggestive of drink.
 It would appear, he said, at last,  that your horse i&
not much accustomed to descending hills.
 Not such hills as this, replied Mr. Fudge.
THE DESCENT.
 There is no occasion at this point of the descent, said
the carrier,  to take so much precaution.
Mr. Fudge gently insinuated that he was of a different
opinion.
11 Of course Monsieur can do as he likes.
To this Mr. Fudge assented.
 Above the Napoleon fountain, the carrier said, speak-
ing always in an injured tone,  it was different, it was
necessary to be careful, but below it they might even trot
the whole way.
Mr. Fudge said, that on the whole, he would rather not.
 You might keep the drag on, you know, said the
carrier.
Mr. Fudge thanked him for this permission. After this
there was a long pause. At length the carrier seemed
unable to bear it any longer.
 Why don't you get into the carriage ? he cried, des-
perately.
 Because we like better to walk by the side, replied'
Mr. Fudge.
On hearing this tremendous opinion, the carrier turned
suddenly about, and, without a single word, plunged
through the bushes on the side of the road, and in one
instant disappeared over the brow of the precipice.
Mr. Fudge and his friend looked at each other for some-
time in blank astonishment, but observing presently that
the horse and cart which had been under %this gentleman's
superintendence had arrived at the turn in the road which
marked the commencement of a fresh parallel, and had
turned the corner in perfect safety, our Englishmen came
to the conclusion that this eccentric person had simply
taken a short cut down the rock, leaving his horse to follow
the zigzag road, taking care of the cart and himself as best
he might.
Not long after this meeting, the travellers came at last to
a point on the road where that strange misty veil, to which
they had been so long descending, was stretched across the
44-8
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
way, the boundary of it being so abrupt and so definitely
and strongly marked, that they could actually take note of
the exact moment when they entered it, the thick mist
being drawn across the road like a curtain.
A little more and the mountains overhead were invisible,
and nothing but the mist was to be seen above and round
about them.
Long after this the descent went on, till even the six
miles of mountain which they had been prepared for
seemed hardly to account for the length of the way, and
both gentlemen began to doubt whether such a thing as a
horizontal piece of ground existed in the world at all.
It was dark when at last they entered the town of Gex,
at the foot of the mountains, and Blinkers was so tire d that
he did not even pluck up spirit at the sight of Monsieur
Richards' inn or at the smell of Monsieur Richards' stable.
Where have we got to at last ? Has the reader a map
at hand ? If he has, and the small town of Gex is marked
on it, he will see how near we are now to the end of
our tale. Geneva lies at a distance of only fifteen miles.
Four long days have conquered the Jura mountains, and
to-night the travellers sleep at their foot.
As they lie down at night to rest under Monsieur
Richards' roof, are their sensations, now that their journey
is well-nigh accomplished, altogether pleasant ones ? The
next morning when they got up for their last day on the
road, is it with unalloyed pleasure that they remember
that it is so ? Throughout this journey they were ever
haunted by that thought of  getting on. They have got
on now ; are they satisfied ? Not Mr. Fudge, surely, who,
as they start on that last day's journey, mounts so listlessly
to his place, and sets the carriole in motion without a
single crack of his whip, or a single word of encouragement
to Blinkers. Not Mr. Pinchbold, who wears a countenance
ten times more rueful than it has ever appeared before
during this narrative, and who, when confidently expecting
THE BOUNDARY OE FRANCE.
449
that his end was near, has presented an appearance which
was positively jaunty in comparison with his present aspect.
Not Blinkers, who is so stiff in the shoulders that he is
scarcely able to get along at all at first, and whose dejected
exterior is quite in keeping with that of Mazard, who of
course knows all about it, and is evidently iTiminating on
his past career, and beginning to doubt whether or not he
has been taken in, and whether the pastry-cook's shop
inside the carriole is really part of the old concern at Paris
or not.
The last day on the road thus begins rather drearily, but
by degrees Blinkers gets warmed to his work, and is able
to do more than five yards without stumbling, while Mr.
Fudge and his friend find an excitement in the thought of
their nearness to Geneva which arouses them a little 'also.
It is quite curious to see, as they now do—they are not
yet past the frontier—how gradually one country melts
into another. There is no other way of travelling than
that which our Englishmen are practising which would
show this so plainly. The traveller who gets into the
train at Lyons, and scarcely stops till he is put out of it at
Geneva, has no opportunities of observing the little wayside
indications of his nearness to the new country which must
strike those who slowly approach it by the road.
They are getting nearer to Switzerland, the face of the
country is altering, and wears a more cultivated look, it
looks more innocent and rural than France proper. Pre-
sently a sergent-de-ville, with his cocked hat and sword,
steps forward as they pass a small village, and, true to his
country, demands to see their passports before they leave
the French dominions. All is  en regie, and they pass
on. It is the last village on the French side of the Bubicon.
Presently they descend a slight incline ; at the foot of it
there is a flat piece of road, and beyond that a hill rises in
front of them. About the middle of the piece of flat road,
the travellers see a small board stuck on the top of a short
post. It is much such a construction as the reader will
G G
450
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
find in any of our London parks witli the hours for closing
the gate recorded on it.
The travellers get nearer and nearer to the board, and at
last can read what is inscribed upon it.
 Limite de la France.
They are past it in a moment, and Mr. Pinchbold feels
as if the sky was brighter, and says that he seems to breathe
more freely.
Although the aspect of the country had begun to change
before that boundary-mark was passed, the difference
between the two territories, now that France was fairly left
behind, was almost startling. At the douane on the Swiss
side no one inquired for our travellers' passports, and only
a question or two was asked on the subject of their luggage,
which yet asserted itself pretty conspicuously at the back of
the carriole Avhen the custom-house officer peeped into the
interior of the vehicle. The whole look of the country
was more cheerful and pretty than is the case in France.
As our two Englishmen advanced nearer to their journey's
end, they came to little comfortable villas by the road-side,
with roses tumbling over the wall. Pretty cottages and
chalets, gay little gardens and orchards, were to be seen in
all directions, which, together with the hedges—it was long
since either of our friends had seen a hedge—gave. the
scene something of an English character which was in-
expressibly pleasant. Through such scenery the road lay
now, the gardens and the villas forming at last quite an
unbroken fine. By degrees, however, the gardens became
more rare, and the villas were joined to each other, and
Swiss cars and other vehicles began to show in considerable
numbers, and it was not long before our two Englishmen
found that almost without their knowing how, a great and
populous town was growing up around and about them.
And now they come to an open space which the railway
traverses, and then passing on under its bridge, they cross
a square, and arrive at a broad, open street, into which
GENEVA.
451
they turn by a sort of instinct. At the end of it is a great
blue lake, with mountains* on its further side, and Mr.
Pudge and his friend, as they own that they have reached
one of the most beautiful cities in the world, look yet rather
ruefully at each other as they pull up at the door of the
Hotel des Bergues—for the name of this beautiful city is
Geneva, and the cruise upon wheels is at an end.
452
CONCLUSION.
Little more remains to be told.
Step by step, we have tracked tbe course of the two
Englishmen whose fortunes we have been following, till we
have brought them from the door of the Calais lodgings to
that of the chief hotel of Geneva. The story of their
journey has been told and their progress recorded almost
foot by foot. May the reader share in some sort the regret
with which these two gentlemen are seized as they recognise
the fact that the end towards which they have looked so
eagerly has come too soon at last.
It is the end. There can be no more cruising now.
The twenty-seventh of October has arrived, it is very cold
already, and November is at hand. Mr. Pudge and his
companion are engaged to spend some time with a friend
who has a villa on the lake, and this visit over, it will be
time to return to England, and that by the swiftest means
attainable.
What was to become of the carriole, and of Blinkers ?
There was but one course open with regard to both the
ene and the other. They must be sold.
It is not our intention to give any such details concerning
this last melancholy transaction, as we ventured to supply
in our narrative of the circumstances attending their pur-
chase. It was in every way a doleful and distressing
affair. The travellers had got to look upon the carriole
as a sort of temporary home, and upon Blinkers, in spite of
Ms failings, as a friend and companion. The wrench of
POOR BLINKERS.
458
parting with them was a more serious one than the reader
would imagine.
The two friends were detained long at Geneva by the
difficulty of finding a purchaser to whose proposals they
could even listen. Your Swiss is not fond of parting with
money, and Mr. Fudge and his companion had abundant
opportunities of studying the very great difference which
exists between the two operations of buying and selling.
At length a certain riding-master who kept a manege in
the town, and who was on the look-out for some additions
to his stud, cast his eye upon Blinkers, and thinking that
the little horse would be useful in his school, made an offer
for the horse and carriole together, which, though still
ridiculously low, was the best which they had yet received.
The riding-master seemed a pleasant, good-natured man.
His offer promised a tolerably easy future to Blinkers, and
in the end it was accepted.
When the day came on which the riding-master was to
claim his own, Avhen the last painful act of the drama had.
to be played out, when the deed was to be done which
showed that the strange enterprise—which the two friends
had loved more dearly than they knew before—was really
concluded for ever, at that time it would be hard to say
which of these two gentlemen was the more deeply stirred.
Mr. Pinchbold shrunk altogether from the last parting
scene, but his friend found a strange kind of fascination
in it, and descended with the riding-master to the stable-
yard, where the carriole was standing forlorn and empty.
There were sundry matters to be attended to before it
could be got- under way, and Mr. Fudge left the riding-
master and the ostler engaged in these, and going aside by
himself, opened the door of the stable in which Blinkers
was placed.
The little horse was alone with Mazard, and the two
appeared ta be engaged in a highly interesting conversation,
which Mr. Fudge's entry interrupted. There were no-,
other horses in the stable, and all the other,stalls were,
454
A CRUISE tTPON WHEELS.
vacant, as there had been a great demand for carriages in
the hotel that day. For the same reason, the grooms and
drivers attached to the establishment were absent also.
Mr. Fudge closed the door, and advancing to the dark'
corner where Blinkers stood, he entered the stall and laid
his hand upon his shoulder.
The poor beast went through the usual established form
which was his notion of fun, and laying his ears back,
turned his head away, and began routing with his nose
among the few grains which lay at the bottom of the empty
manger. Acting strictly in accordance with precedent,
Mr. Fudge should at this time have feigned to be oblivious
of the presence of the little horse, but he had not the heart
to perform his usual part, and so when Blinkers turned his
head round, he found this disconsolate gentleman standing
with his face towards him, and still with his hand upon the
horse's shoulder.
 So, it is over, Blinkers, he said.  I almost wish,
now that it has come to this, that it had never begun: to
turn you into money—though, heaven knows, not to profit
—is almost like selling a friend. Alas ! I have not many
friends that I should feel the parting from as I feel this
separation between us two. And what now has become of
the memory of all thy defects—those startings and shyings,
and those stumblings which have so depreciated thy worth
—they seem all forgotten, and nothing but thy merit re-
membered. There was so much of that, my little horse,
that it swallows up the remembrance of thy faults. For,
besides that thou wert so strong, and so capable of labour,
more than many a larger animal than thyself, thou wert
gifted with the gentlest nature and the sweetest temper that
ever horse possessed. Those 'flaws and starts' arose not
from defect of temper but of nerve, and—I shrewdly
suspect—from some fault of vision yet more.
The animal thus fondly addressed was by no means
insensible to the affectionate language bestowed upon it, for
he was nibbling with his lips at Mr. Fudge's hands, and
THE END.
455
putting his nose into the pockets of that gentleman's
shooting-jacket all the time he spoke.
 And now, Mr. Fudge continued,  you are going to a
manege, Blinkers, and you are going to spend your life in
ambling round and round a riding-school, Avith small
urchins and little ladies on thy back.
Blinkers Avas noAv occupied in affectionately cheAving Mr.
Fudge's left trouser; but it is one of the advantages of
habitual shabbiness in attire, that the seedy are not
obliged to pause in moments of emotion to consider their
clothes.
 Heaven send they may be kind to thee ! Mr. Fudge
Avent on, as he took the poor beast's head in his hands, and
dreAV it toAvards him.  I would that I Avere able to keep
thee, but I am poor and may not afford it, and I have busi-
ness to attend to, and I must not spend my life in rambling
up and doAvn the world Avith our friend Francis Pinchbold,
Avith Mazard and thee.
 Heaven send they may be kind to thee! said Mr.
Fudge again, as he raised Blinkers' soft nose to a level
Avith his own face, and pressed his lips against the velvet skin.
When Mr. Fudge left the stable, Avith Mazard folloAving
at his heels, he was obliged to take his spectacles off and
wipe them, for a mist had gathered on the glass.
u I have brought you, said Mr. Fudge, as he re-entered
the room in which he had left his friend,  I have brought
you Mazard back, at any rate. As long as he is about us
we shall have something to remind us of our journey, and
when we start again 
 Start again ! interrupted Mr. Pinchbold.
 Yes, replied Mr. Fudge.  This journey has been too
successful for us to abandon this Avay of life altogether, and I
hope and trust that one of these days we shall be off again,
and Mazard shall go with us.
Mr. Pinchbold, sitting Avith his elboAvs on the arms of his
•chair, and looking down ruefully at the dog at his feet, shook
his head in unspeakable despondency.
456
A CRUISE UPON WHEELS.
 We will have another cruise yet, said Mr. Fudge, with
a kind of desperate gaiety.
Mr. Pinchbold shook his head again, and again looked
down at Mazard, who was gazing hard at him, and wagging
his tail slowly and thoughtfully, as dogs will when taking in
a conversation.
 Never, said Mr. Pinchbold;  our travels are ended
besides, I have a presentiment.
Shall one of Mr. Pinchbold's presentiments come true at
last ?
The -writer of these words, lingering over this last page,,
hopes with all his heart and soul that it may not.
APPENDIX.
The considerations of expense and distance, the more statistical
portion of this narrative, have been little dwelt upon in the body
-of the work. The extraordinary cheapness of the French inns,
however, seems to make it worth while to add a sketch of the
•expenses contracted by our travellers during the time that they
were actually on the road; while, with regard to the distances
performed each day, and the length of time consumed in achieving
"the entire journey, these may not he uninteresting to those who
would wish to see what amount of work a single horse can get
through. It may he "mentioned that in the statements of expense
all fees to servants and other extras are invariably included.
English money.
£ s. d.
•St. Omer.—Hotel de la Porte d'Or; expenses of tra-
vellers and horse for two nights and one entire
day 1 6
St. Hilaire.—Baiting Bijou, and dinner for both
travellers 0 3 10|
St. Pol.—Hotel d'Angleterre; supper, night's lodg-
ing, breakfast, and horse's keep . . . . 0 17 II
.Dotjllens.—Hotel des Quatre Fils d'Aymon; dinner,
night's lodging, breakfast and horse's keep . 0 17 1
Baiting Bijou on road 0 0 10
J>IS.—Ecu de France; supper, night's lodging, and
horse's keep 0 15 0
Carried forward £4 11
458
APPENDIX.
English money.
Brought forward £4 11
Chailly.—Baiting horse and dejeuner .... 0 5 10'
Fontainebleau.—Hotel de Paris ; dinner, night's
lodging, breakfast, and horse's keep ... 1 2 0
Montereau.—Grand Monarque; dinner, night's
lodging, and horse's keep 0 15 3|
Pont sur Yonne.—Baiting horse and dejeuner . 0 3 11
Sens.—Hotel; dinner, three nights' lodging, two
entire days, and horse's keep 2 .19 7
ViLLENEtrvE.—Baiting horse and dejeuner ... 0 6 2
Joigny.—Hotel; dinner, night's lodging, and horse's
keep 0 12 OJ
Baiting horse and dejeuner 0 1 11
Auxerre.—Hotel de la Fontaine; dinner, night's
lodging, breakfast, and horse's keep ... 0 18 10|-
Chablis.—Baiting horse and dejeuner 0 3 11
Tonnerre.—Hotel; supper, two nights' lodging,
one entire day, dejeuner, and horse's keep . 2 1 9|
Ancy be Franc.—Hotel de la Poste; dinner, night's
lodging, and horse's keep 0 13 2
AiSY.—Baiting horse and dejeuner 0 2 11
Montbard.—Hotel de la Poste; dinner, two nights'
lodging, one entire day, and horse's keep . 1 15 0
Yillenetjve.—Baiting horse and dejeuner ... 0 2 11
Chanceaux.—Hotel; dinner, night's lodging, and
horse's keep 0 10 5
St. Seine.—Baiting horse and dejeuner .... 0 4 7
Dijon.—Hotel de la Cloche; dinner, three nights'
lodging, two entire days, and horse's keep . 2 18 9
Genlis.—Baiting horse and dejeuner 0 4
Atjxonne.—Hotel; dinner, night's lodging, break-
fast, and horse's keep 0 19 11
Dole.—Hotel; dinner, two nights' lodging, one
entire day, and horse's keep 1 17 0
Mont sous Vaudry.—Baiting horse and dejeuner . 0 5 10
Poligny.—Hotel; dinner, night's lodging, break-
fast, and horse's keep 0 16 9
Monteond.—Baiting horse 0 0 10
Carried forward £24 5 3%
appendix.
45&
English money.
Brought forward £24 5 34
Champagnole.—Hotel; dinner, night's lodging,
breakfast, and horse's keep
13 9
St. Laurent.—Hotel; dinner, night's lodging,
breakfast, and horse's keep
o is a
Les Pousses.—Hotel; dinner, night's lodging, and
horse's keep
0 17 6
La Faucille.—Baiting horse and dejeuner . . .
0 7 1
Gex.—Dinner, night's lodging, breakfast, and horse's
keep
0 17 11
£28 9 6b
(Signed) Francis Pinchbold.
460
APPENDIX.
TABLE OF DISTANCES.
Days.
1 from Calais
to
St. Omer
2 „
St. Omer
!»*
St. Pol
3 „
St. Pol
99
Doullens
4 „
Doullens
SS
Amiens
Days.
1 from Paris
to
Bis
2 „
Bis
Fontainebleau
3 „
Fontainebleau
»
Montereau
4 „
Montereau
99
Sens
5 „
Sens
S9
Joigny
6 „
Joigny
99
Auxerre
7- „
Auxerre
99
Tonnerre
8 „
Tonnerre
99
Ancy le Franc
9 „
Ancy le Frano
99
Montbard
10 „
Montbard
99
Chanceaux
11 „
Chanceaux
99
Dijon
12 „
Dijon
99
Auxonne
13 „
Auxonne
99
Dole
14 „
Dole
99
Poligny
15 „
Poligny
99
Champagnole
16 „
Champagnole
99
St. Laurent
17 „
St. Laurent
99
Les Bousses
18 „
Les Bousses
99
Gex
19 „
Gex
„
Geneva
7 days
rest at different times.
English miles,
about 18
„ 39
„ 18
„ 18
Total 93
English miles,
about 16?r
28i
16^
24
22
22i
27
15
22£
25i
28
24
12
27
18
17
16
24
15
26 Total of days on road.
Total 402
THE END.
- FOiTlHE SEASON.
i\
Price Is., v :th Eighty Illustrations.
A SEA SIDE SENSATION.
By C. H. ROSS.
Price 2s. 6d., fancy boards, with Illustrations.
THE TOMMIEBEG SHOOTINGS;
OR, A MOOR IN SCOTLAND.
BY THOMAS JEANS.
Price Is., fancy boards, with Woodcuts.
TODDLES'S HIGHLAND TOUR.
Price Is. each, fancy boards, with Coloured Illustrations and
Woodnuts.
THE
COMMON OBJECTS OF THE SEA-SHORE.
By the Rev. J. G. WOOD.
THE
COMMON OBJECTS OF THE COUNTRY.
Bv the Rev. J. G. WOOD.
LONDON: GEORGE ROTJTLEDGE AND SONS,
■ THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL.
EDMUND BVAN8, ENGRAVER AND PRINTER, :AQUET COURT, YLEET STREET.