In Search of the Unknown
Chapter 25

Public Domain

“It was nearly ten o’clock and our train was rapidly approaching Paris. We passed village after village wrapped in mist, station after station hung with twinkling red and blue and yellow lanterns, then sped on again with the echo of the switch-bells ringing in our ears.

“When at length the train slowed up and stopped, I opened the window and looked out upon a long, wet platform, shining under the electric lights.

“A guard came running by, throwing open the doors of each compartment, and crying, ‘Paris next! Tickets, if you please.’

“I handed him my book of coupons, from which he tore several and handed it back. Then he lifted his lantern and peered into the compartment, saying, ‘Is monsieur alone?’

“I turned to Wilhelmina.

“‘He wants your ticket—give it to me.’

“‘What’s that?’ demanded the guard.

“I looked anxiously at Wilhelmina.

“‘If your father has the tickets—’ I began, but was interrupted by the guard, who snapped:

“‘Monsieur will give himself the trouble to remember that I do not understand English.’

“‘Keep quiet!’ I said, sharply, in French. ‘I am not speaking to you.’

“The guard stared stupidly at me, then, at my luggage, and finally, entering the car, knelt down and peered under the seats. Presently he got up, very red in the face, and went out slamming the door. He had not paid the slightest attention to Wilhelmina, but I distinctly heard him say, ‘Only Englishmen and idiots talk to themselves!’

“‘Wilhelmina, ‘ I faltered, ‘do you mean to say that that guard could not see you?’

“She began to look so serious again that I merely added, ‘Never mind, I don’t care whether you are invisible or not, dearest.’

“‘I am not invisible to you, ‘ she said; ‘why should you care?’

“A great noise of bells and whistles drowned our voices, and, amid the whirring of switch-bells, the hissing of steam, and the cries of ‘Paris! All out!’ our train glided into the station.

“It was the professor who opened the door of our carriage. There he stood, calmly adjusting his yellow night-cap and drawing his dressing-gown closer with the corded tassels.

“‘Where have you been?’ I asked.

“‘On the engine.’

“‘In the engine, I suppose you mean, ‘ I said.

“‘No, I don’t; I mean on the engine—on the pilot. It was very refreshing. Where are we going now?’

“‘Do you know Paris?’ asked Wilhelmina, turning to me.

“‘Yes. I think your father had better take you to the Hôtel Normandie on the Rue de l’Échelle—’

“‘But you must stay there, too!’

“‘Of course—if you wish—’

“She laughed nervously.

“‘Don’t you see that my father and I could not take rooms—now? You must engage three rooms for yourself.’

“‘Why?’ I asked, stupidly.

“‘Oh, dear—why, because we are invisible.’

“I tried to repress a shudder. The professor gave Wilhelmina his arm, and, as I studied his ensemble, I thanked Heaven that he was invisible.

“At the gate of the station I hailed a four-seated cab, and we rattled away through the stony streets, brilliant with gas-jets, and in a few moments rolled smoothly across the Avenue de l’Opéra, turned into the Rue de l’Échelle, and stopped. A bright little page, all over buttons, came out, took my luggage, and preceded us into the hallway.

“I, with Wilhelmina on my arm and the professor shuffling along beside me, walked over to the desk.

“‘Room?’ said the clerk. ‘We have a very desirable room on the second, fronting the Rue St. Honoré—’

“‘But we—that is, I want three rooms—three separate rooms!’ I said.

“The clerk scratched his chin. ‘Monsieur is expecting friends?’

“‘Say yes, ‘ whispered Wilhelmina, with a suspicion of laughter in her voice.

“‘Yes, ‘ I repeated, feebly.

“‘Gentlemen, of course?’ said the clerk, looking at me narrowly.

“‘One lady.’

“‘Married, of course?’

“‘What’s that to you?’ I said, sharply. ‘What do you mean by speaking to us—’

“‘Us!’

“‘I mean to me, ‘ I said, badly rattled; ‘give me the rooms and let me get to bed, will you?’

“‘Monsieur will remember, ‘ said the clerk, coldly, ‘that this is an old and respectable hotel.’

“‘I know it, ‘ I said, smothering my rage.

“The clerk eyed me suspiciously.

“‘Front!’ he called, with irritating deliberation. ‘Show this gentleman to apartment ten.’

“‘How many rooms are there!’ I demanded.

“‘Three sleeping-rooms and a parlor.’

“‘I will take it, ‘ I said, with composure.

“‘On probation, ‘ muttered the clerk, insolently.

“Swallowing the insult, I followed the bell-boy up the stairs, keeping between him and Wilhelmina, for I dreaded to see him walk through her as if she were thin air. A trim maid rose to meet us and conducted us through a hallway into a large apartment. She threw open all the bedroom-doors and said, ‘Will monsieur have the goodness to choose?’

“‘Which will you take, ‘ I began, turning to Wilhelmina.

“‘I? Monsieur!’ cried the startled maid.

“That completely upset me. ‘Here, ‘ I muttered, slipping some silver into her hand; ‘now, for the love of Heaven, run away!’

“When she had vanished with a doubtful ‘Merci, monsieur!’ I handed the professor the keys and asked him to settle the thing with Wilhelmina.

“Wilhelmina took the corner room, the professor rambled into the next one, and I said good-night and crept wearily into my own chamber. I sat down and tried to think. A great feeling of fatigue weighted my spirits.

“‘I can think better with my clothes off, ‘ I said, and slipped the coat from my shoulders. How tired I was! ‘I can think better in bed, ‘ I muttered, flinging my cravat on the dresser and tossing my shirt-studs after it. I was certainly very tired. ‘Now, ‘ I yawned, grasping the pillow and drawing it under my head—’now I can think a bit.’ But before my head fell on the pillow sleep closed my eyes.

“I began to dream at once. It seemed as though my eyes were wide open and the professor was standing beside my bed.

“‘Young man, ‘ he said, ‘you’ve won my daughter and you must pay the piper!’

“‘What piper?’ I said.

“‘The Pied Piper of Hamelin, I don’t think, ‘ replied the professor, vulgarly, and before I could realize what he was doing he had drawn a reed pipe from his dressing-gown and was playing a strangely annoying air. Then an awful thing occurred. Cats began to troop into the room, cats by the hundred—toms and tabbies, gray, yellow, Maltese, Persian, Manx—all purring and all marching round and round, rubbing against the furniture, the professor, and even against me. I struggled with the nightmare.

“‘Take them away!’ I tried to gasp.

“‘Nonsense!’ he said; ‘here is an old friend.’

“I saw the white tabby cat of the Hôtel St. Antoine.

“‘An old friend, ‘ he repeated, and played a dismal melody on his reed.

“I saw Wilhelmina enter the room, lift the white tabby in her arms, and bring her to my side.

“‘Shake hands with him, ‘ she commanded.

“To my horror the tabby deliberately extended a paw and tapped me on the knuckles.

“‘Oh!’ I cried, in agony; ‘this is a horrible dream! Why, oh, why can’t I wake!’

“‘Yes, ‘ she said, dropping the cat, ‘it is partly a dream, but some of it is real. Remember what I say, my darling; you are to go to-morrow morning and meet the twelve-o’clock train from Antwerp at the Gare du Nord. Papa and I are coming to Paris on that train. Don’t you know that we are not really here now, you silly boy? Good-night, then. I shall be very glad to see you.’

“I saw her glide from the room, followed by the professor, playing a gay quick-step, to which the cats danced two and two.

“‘Good-night, sir, ‘ said each cat as it passed my bed; and I dreamed no more.

“When I awoke, the room, the bed had vanished; I was in the street, walking rapidly; the sun shone down on the broad, white pavements of Paris, and the streams of busy life flowed past me on either side. How swiftly I was walking! Where the devil was I going? Surely I had business somewhere that needed immediate attention. I tried to remember when I had awakened, but I could not. I wondered where I had dressed myself; I had apparently taken great pains with my toilet, for I was immaculate, monocle and all, even down to a long-stemmed rose nestling in my button-hole. I knew Paris and recognized the streets through which I was hurrying. Where could I be going? What was my hurry? I glanced at my watch and found I had not a moment to lose. Then, as the bells of the city rang out mid-day, I hastened into the railroad station on the Rue Lafayette and walked out to the platform. And as I looked down the glittering track, around the distant curve shot a locomotive followed by a long line of cars. Nearer and nearer it came, while the station-gongs sounded and the switch-bells began ringing all along the track.

“‘Antwerp express!’ cried the sous-chef de gare, and as the train slipped along the tiled platform I sprang upon the steps of a first-class carriage and threw open the door.

“‘How do you do, Mr. Kensett?’ said Wilhelmina Wyeth, springing lightly to the platform. ‘Really it is very nice of you to come to the train.’ At the same moment a bald, mild-eyed gentleman emerged from the depths of the same compartment, carrying a large, covered basket.

“‘How are you, Kensett?’ he said. ‘Glad to see you again. Rather warm in that compartment—no, I will not trust this basket to an expressman; give Wilhelmina your arm and I’ll follow. We go to the Normandie, I believe?’

“All the morning I had Wilhelmina to myself, and at dinner I sat beside her, with the professor opposite. The latter was cheerful enough, but he nearly ruined my appetite, for he smelled strongly of catnip. After dinner he became restless and fidgeted about in his chair until coffee was brought, and we went up to the parlor of our apartment. Here his restlessness increased to such an extent that I ventured to ask him if he was in good health.

 
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