Villette

a bureau, the diligence stopped, and the passengers alighted. My first business was to get my trunk: a small matter enough, but important to me. Understanding that it was best not to be importunate or over-eager about luggage, but to wait and watch quietly the delivery of other boxes till I saw my own, and then promptly claim and secure it, I stood apart; my eye fixed on that part of the vehicle in which I had seen my little portmanteau safely stowed, and upon which, piles of additional bags and boxes were now heaped. One by one, I saw these removed, lowered, and seized on. I was sure mine ought to be by this time visible: it was not. I had tied on the direction card with a piece of green ribbon, that I might know it at a glance: not a fringe or fragment of green was perceptible. Every package was removed; every tin-case and brown paper parcel; the oil-cloth cover was lifted; I saw with distinct vision that not an umbrella, cloak, cane, hat-box or band-box remained.
    And my portmanteau, with my few clothes and little pocket-book enclasping the remnant of my fifteen pounds, where were they?
    I ask this question now, but I could not ask it then. I could say nothing whatever; not possessing a phrase of
speaking
French: and it was French, and French only, the whole world seemed now gabbling round me.
What
should I do? Approaching the conductor, I just laid my hand on his arm, pointed to a trunk, then to the diligence-roof, and tried to express a question with my eyes. He misunderstood me, seized the trunk indicated, and was about to hoist it on the vehicle.
    »Let that alone – will you?« said a voice in good English; then, in correction, »Qu'est ce que vous faîtes donc? Cette malle est à moi.«
    But I had heard the Fatherland accents; they rejoiced my heart; I turned:
    »Sir,« said I, appealing to the stranger, without in my distress noticing what he was like, »I cannot speak French. May I entreat you to ask this man what he has done with my trunk?«
    Without discriminating, for the moment, what sort of face it was to which my eyes were raised and on which they were fixed, I felt in its expression half-surprise at my appeal and half-doubt of the wisdom of interference.
    »
Do
ask him; I would do as much for you,« said I.
    I don't know whether he smiled, but he said in a gentlemanly tone; that is to say, a tone not hard nor terrifying, –
    »What sort of trunk was yours?«
    I described it, including in my description the green ribbon. And forthwith he took the conductor under hand, and I felt, through all the storm of French which followed, that he raked him fore and aft. Presently he returned to me.
    »The fellow avers he was overloaded, and confesses that he removed your trunk after you saw it put on, and has left it behind at Boue-Marine with other parcels; he has promised, however, to forward it to-morrow; the day after, therefore, you will find it safe at this bureau.«
    »Thank you,« said I: but my heart sank.
    Meantime what should I do? Perhaps this English gentleman saw the failure of courage in my face; he inquired kindly,
    »Have you any friends in this city?«
    »No, and I don't know where to go.«
    There was a little pause, in the course of which, as he turned more fully to the light of a lamp above him, I saw that he was a young, distinguished, and handsome man; he might be a lord, for anything I knew: nature had made him good enough for a prince, I thought. His face was very pleasant; he looked high but not arrogant, manly but not overbearing. I was turning away, in the deep consciousness of all absence of claim to look for further help from such a one as he.
    »Was all your money in your trunk?« he asked, stopping me.
    How thankful was I to be able to answer with truth, –
    »No. I have enough in my purse« (for I had near twenty francs) »to keep me at a quiet inn till the day after to-morrow; but I am quite a stranger in Villette, and don't know the streets and the inns.«
    »I can give you the address of such an inn as you want,« said he; »and it is not far off: with my direction you will easily find it.«
    He tore a leaf from his pocket-book, wrote a few words and gave it to me. I
did
think him kind; and as to distrusting him, or his advice, or his address, I should almost as soon have thought of distrusting the Bible. There was goodness in his countenance, and honour in his bright eyes.
    »Your shortest way will be to follow the boulevard, and cross the park,« he continued; »but it is