more, and at the Gare d'Orleans we dismissed our man with
his _pourboire_. We were in good time, and had the place almost to
ourselves. "Le train n'est pas encore fait, monsieur," said a polite
official. "Ah! there it comes. You will not be over-crowded to-night, I
imagine."

Good hearing, for a night journey in a full train without a reserved
carriage means martyrdom. We marked our seats, then walked up and down
the lighted platform. It was nearly ten o'clock and passengers were
arriving.

Presently, missing H. C., we turned and saw him at the lower end of the
train examining the last carriage. What did it mean? Evidently mischief
of some sort. The hundred-and-one occasions rose up before us in which
we had saved him from ladies with matrimony on the brain, from
intrigues, from his susceptible self. Only a year ago there had been
that narrow escape in the Madrid hotel with the siren who had married
the Russian count. He saw us coming, turned and met us with laughter.
What now?

"Come and see," placing his arm in ours. "But don't interfere with the
liberty of the subject. I will not be controlled. You shall no longer
find me weak and yielding as in other years."

All this went in at one ear and out at the other, as the saying runs.
Silence is the best reply to incipient rebellion.

At the last carriage the mystery was solved. In one compartment sat two
lovely ladies, waiting the departure of the train to draw down the
blinds and settle themselves for the night. H. C. silently pointed to
the label, which said: _Pour Fumeurs._ Fortune seemed to favour his
humour for we had seldom seen the announcement on a French carriage.
Then he went on to the next compartment. Three young men had entered and
were laughing, talking, blowing clouds of smoke. This was labelled _Pour
Dames Seules_. H. C. had quietly changed the iron labels and turned the
world upside down. The inmates were in blissful ignorance of the
frightful thing that had happened.

"We had no time for the theatre to-night, yet I had a mind for a little
comedy," said H. C. "Now we have it on the spot, and without paying. I
had such trouble to ram the plaques into the grooves that they will
never come out again. Here comes the inspector--evidently not to be
trifled with; exactly the man for the occasion. Now for it."

We trembled as the great man approached, each particular hair standing
on end, the pallor of death on our cheek. Appearances would have
condemne