our minds transcended fear.

It was a hot day when we took our last view of the lake, as we rode down
the hill from the hotel, past the cathedral, past the shaded promenade
upon the quay, to the station; but we heeded neither the heat nor the
landscape when we were once in the train and on the way. Our hearts were
heavy with grief at parting from friends, our spirits weighed down by
nameless fears. It was a wicked world, we suddenly remembered. Wolves in
sheep's clothing doubtless awaited us at every turn. Roaring lions
guarded every station. We clutched our travelling-bags, umbrellas, and
wraps, with a grasp only attained by grim fate or lone women. Gradually,
however, as the uneventful hours wore away, we forgot that in eternal
vigilance lay our safety, and relaxed our hold.

We had left Lucerne at noon; at five o'clock we reached Basle. Here we
were to spend the night at the hotel _Les Trois Rois_. Every step of the
way to Paris had been made plain to us by our kind friends.

"Let me see; the hotel is close by the station?" queried Mrs. K., when
we had left our trunks, as our friends had advised, and followed the
crowd to the sidewalk.

"Yes," I replied with assurance, "close by, they said; I am sure."

Accordingly we turned away from the long line of hotel omnibuses backed
up against the curb-stone, to the fine hotels on each side of the
straight avenue, extending as far as the eye could see. Alas! among
their blazing names was no "_Trois Rois_." We read them over and over
again. We even tried to pronounce them. Not a king was there, to say
nothing of _three_.

In a kind of bewilderment we strayed down the avenue. Might not some one
of the fair dwellings gleaming out from the shrubbery prove the house we
sought? There was a rattle and clatter behind us; a passing omnibus.
Another, and still another followed. Serene faces beamed out upon our
perplexity. A cloud of dust enveloped us as the last rolled cheerfully
by, upon the end of which we read, with staring eyes, "_Les Trois
Rois_."

"Ah!" gasped Mrs. K.

"Sure enough," I replied.

"Why, suppose we take it?" said she, slowly.

"Suppose we do," I assented, with equal deliberation. But by this time
the little red omnibus was a speck in the distance.

"At least we can follow it." And we quickened our steps, when, with
almost human perversity, it turned a distant corner, and vanished from
sight.

Fixing our eyes steadily upon the point of disappearance, w