door opened at the signal, the coachman saw a middle-sized person
issue from it, wrapped in a cloak, and wearing a colored cap.

This man carefully locked the door, and then advanced two steps into the
street. "They are waiting for you," said the coachman; "I am to take you
along with me to the coach."

Preceding the man with the cloak, who only answered him by a nod, he led
him to the coach-door, which he was about to open, and to let down the
step, when the voice exclaimed from the inside: "It is not necessary.
The gentleman may talk to me through the window. I will call you when it
is time to start."

"Which means that I shall be kept here long enough to send you to all
the devils!" murmured the driver. "However, I may as well walk about,
just to stretch my legs."

So saying, he began to walk up and down, by the side of the wall in
which was the little door. Presently he heard the distant sound of
wheels, which soon came nearer and nearer, and a carriage, rapidly
ascending the slope, stopped on the other side of the little
garden-door.

"Come, I say! a private carriage!" said the coachman. "Good horses
those, to come up the Rue Blanche at a trot."

The coachman was just making this observation, when, by favor of a
momentary gleam of light, he saw a man step from the carriage, advance
rapidly to the little door, open it, and go in, closing it after him.

"It gets thicker and thicker!" said the coachman. "One comes out, and
the other goes in."

So saying, he walked up to the carriage. It was splendidly harnessed,
and drawn by two handsome and vigorous horses. The driver sat
motionless, in his great box-coat, with the handle of his whip resting
on his right knee.

"Here's weather to drive about in, with such tidy dukes as yours,
comrade!" said the humble hackney-coachman to this automaton, who
remained mute and impassible, without even appearing to know that he was
spoken to.

"He doesn't understand French--he's an Englishman. One could tell that
by his horses," said the coachman, putting this interpretation on the
silence of his brother whip. Then, perceiving a tall footman at a little
distance, dressed in a long gray livery coat, with blue collar and
silver buttons, the coachman addressed himself to him, by way of
compensation, but without much varying his phrase: "Here's nice weather
to stand about in, comrade!" On the part of the footman, he was met with
the same imperturbable silence.

"They're both