or two in it when a surprise was intended, and what commander
would blow up or destroy it under such circumstances? I fear the tunnel
would prove a grand place for ruffians; and what hideous depredations
and murderous attacks might not be committed in transit! Five minutes is
in all conscience long enough to be under the depressing influence of a
Hadean tunnel, but it would be an evil spirit who could tolerate it for
the best part of an hour.

Arrived at Calais, the train was already waiting to carry us onward, but
there was ample time for breakfast.

Calais station always seems to be undergoing a certain kind of
metamorphosis; and with its sand-hills and generally unfinished
condition, reminds the traveller of some remote part of the world, such
as Panama, for instance. Some day it may possibly be able to digest the
passenger traffic from England to the continent, but at present much
time is lost there from its being so gorged. It is absolutely refreshing
to catch a glimpse of the Calais fish women, with their gay costume,
wonderfully frilled, spotless white caps, and healthy faces.

Soon we are spinning along towards Paris, the weather pretty fine so
far, but the country sadly flooded; and, the lowlands being under water,
the gaunt and leafless poplar trees are the most conspicuous objects of
the landscape. Then for miles we travel along through a gloomy drizzling
rain, the land looking most forlornly desolate. The arrival at Amiens,
however, cheers us a little, and here we get a stretch and some
refreshment. After leaving this place, always interesting for its
beautiful Cathedral, the weather brightens up, and we reach Paris in
good time for dinner.

Thus far we have found travelling second class very agreeable, for when
the trains are fast there are advantages in so doing--more room and less
expense than by first class.

At Paris the examination of luggage is a perfect nuisance. An
Englishman, and still more an English _woman_, very reluctantly hands
over her keys to a French gen d'arme, who, be your presence never so
imposing, ruthlessly capsizes your careful and thoughtful stowage,
whilst you angrily or impatiently watch your travelling sanctum pried
into by dirty-handed, over-zealous officials. The one examination at
Calais, when there was plenty of time, should surely have sufficed; but
at the end of a journey, when one is tired and anxious to get to one's
hotel and dinner, it is aggravating beyond measure