Tales of the Trains

“‘Well, this will never do,’ said I, at last; ‘I must try and ask for the Boulevard de Regent.’ I suppose it was my bad accent that amused them, for every fellow I stopped put on a broad grin: some pointed this way, and some pointed that; but they all thought it a high joke. I spent an hour in this fashion, and then gave up the pursuit. My next thought was the hotel where my family had stopped on their arrival, which I found, on examining my notes, was called the ‘Hôtel de Suède.’ Here I was more lucky, – every one knew that; and after traversing a couple of streets, I found myself at the door of a great roomy inn, with a door like a coach-house gate. ‘There is no doubt about this,’ said I; for the words ‘Hôtel de Suède’ were written up in big letters. I made signs for something to eat, for I was starving; but before my pantomime was well begun, the whole household set off in search of a waiter who could speak English.

“‘Ha! ha!’ said a fellow with an impudent leer, ‘roa bif, eh?’

“I did not know whether it was meant for me, or the bill of fare, but I said ‘Yes, and potatoes;’ but before I let him go in search of the dinner, I thought I would ask him a few words about my family, who had stopped at the hotel for three weeks.

“‘Do you know Mrs. Blake,’ said I, ‘of Castle Blake?’

“‘Yees, yees, I know her very veil.’

“‘She was here about six months ago.’

“‘Yees, yees; she vas here sex months.’

“‘No; not for six months, – three weeks.’

“‘Yees; all de same.’

“‘Did you see her lately?’

“‘Yees, dis mornin’.’

“‘This morning! was she here this morning?’

“‘Yees; she come here vith a captain of Cuirassiers – ah! droll fellow dat!’

“‘That’s a lie anyhow,’ said I, ‘my young gentleman;’ and with that I planted my fist between his eyes, and laid him flat on the floor. Upon my conscience you would have thought it was murder I had done; never was there such yelling, and screaming, and calling for the police, and Heaven knows what besides; and sure enough, they marched me off between a file of soldiers to a place like a guard-room, where, whatever the fellow swore against me, it cost me a five-pound note before I got free.

“‘Keep a civil tongue in your head, young man, about Mrs. Blake, anyway; for by the hill of Maam, if I hear a word about the Cuirassier, I’ll not leave a whole bone in your skin.’

“Well, sir, I got a roast chicken, and a dish of water-cress, and I got into a bed about four feet six long; and what between the fleas and the nightmare, I had n’t a pleasant time of it till morning.

“After breakfast I opened my map of Brussels, and, sending for the landlord, bid him point with his finger to the place I was in. He soon understood my meaning; but, taking me by the arm, he led me to the wall, on which was a large map of Belgium, and then, my jewell what do you think I discovered? It was not in Brussels I was at all, but in Louvain! seventeen miles on the other side of it! Well, there was nothing for it now but to go back; so I paid my bill and set off down to the station. In half an hour the train came up, and when they asked me where I was going, I repeated the word ‘Brussels’ several times over. This did not seem to satisfy them; and they said something about my being an Englishman.

“‘Yes, yes,’ said I, ‘Angleterre, Angleterre.’

“‘Ah, Angleterre!’ said one, who looked shrewder than the rest; and as if at once comprehending my intentions, he assisted me into a carriage, and, politely taking off his hat, made me a salute at parting, adding something about a ‘voyage.’ ‘Well, he ‘ll be a cunning fellow that sees me leave this train till it comes to its destination,’ said I; ‘I’ll not be shoved out by any confounded guard, as I was yesterday.’ My resolution was not taken in vain, for just at the very place I got out, on the day before, a fellow came, and began making signs for me to change to another train.

“‘I’ll tell you what,’ says I, laying hold of my cotton umbrella at the same moment, ‘I ‘ll make a Belgian of you, if you will not let me alone. Out of this place I ‘ll not budge for King Leopold himself.’

“And though he looked very savage for a few minutes, the way I handled my weapon satisfied him that I was not joking, and he gave it up for a bad job, and left me at peace. The other passengers said something, I suppose, in explanation.

“‘Yes,’ said I, ‘I ‘m an Englishman, or an Irishman, – It’s all one, – Angleterre.’

“‘Ah, Angleterre!’ said three or four in a breath; and the words seemed to act like a charm upon them, for whatever I did seemed all fair and reasonable now. I kept a sharp look-out for Brussels; but hour after hour slipped past, and though we passed several large towns, there was no sign of it. After six hours’ travelling, an old gentleman pulled out his watch, and made signs to me that we should be in in less than ten minutes more; and so we were, and a droll-looking place it was, – a town built in a hole, with clay ditches all round it, to keep out the sea.

“‘My wife never said a word about this,’ said I; ‘she used to say Castle Blake was damp, but this place beats it hollow. Where’s the Boulevards?’ said I.

“And a fellow pointed to a sod bank, where a sentry was on guard.

“‘If it’s a joke you ‘re making me,’ said I, ‘you mistake your man; ‘and I aimed a blow at him with my umbrella, that sent him running down the street as fast as his wooden slippers would let him.

“‘It ought to be cheap here, anyhow,’ said I. ‘Faith, I think a body ought to be paid for living in it; but how will I find out the family!’

“I was two hours walking through this cursed hole, always coming back to a big square, with a fish-market, no matter which way I turned; for devil a one could tell me a word about Mrs. Blake or Mrs. Fitz. either.

“‘Is there a hotel?’ said I; and the moment I said the word, a dozen fellows were dragging me here and there, till I had to leave two or three of them sprawling with my umbrella, and give myself up to the guidance of one of the number. Well, the end of it was – if I passed the last night at Louvain, the present I was destined to pass at Ostend!

“I left this mud town, by the early train, next morning; and having altered my tactics, determined now to be guided by any one who would take the trouble to direct me, – neither resisting nor opposing. To be brief, for my story has grown too lengthy, I changed carriages four times, at each place there being a row among the bystanders which party should decide my destination, – the excitement once running so high that I lost one skirt of my coat, and had my cravat pulled off; and the end of this was that I arrived, at four in the afternoon, at Liège, sixty-odd miles beyond Brussels! for, somehow, these intelligent people have contrived to make their railroads all converge to one small town called ‘Malines:’ so that you may – as was my case – pass within twelve miles of Brussels every day, and yet never set eyes on it.

“I was now so fatigued by travelling, so wearied by anxiety and fever, that I kept my bed the whole of the following day, dreaming, whenever I did sleep, of everlasting railroads, and starting put of my slumbers to wonder if I should ever see my family again. I set out once more, and for the last time, – my mind being made up, that if I failed now, I ‘d take up my abode wherever chance might drop me, and write to my wife to come and look for me. The bright thought flashed on me, as I watched the man in the baggage office labelling the baggage, and, seizing one of the gummed labels marked ‘Bruxelles,’ I took off my coat, and stuck it between the shoulders. This done, I resumed my garment, and took my place.

“The plan succeeded; the only inconvenience I sustained being the necessity I was under of showing my way-bill whenever they questioned me, and making a pirouette to the company, – a performance that kept the passengers in broad grins for the whole day’s journey. So you see, gentlemen, they may talk as they please about the line from Antwerp to Brussels, and the time being only one hour fifteen minutes; but take my word for it, that even – if you don’t take a day’s rest – it’s a good three days’ and a half, and costs eighty-five francs, and some coppers besides.”

“The economy of the Continent, then, did not fulfil your expectations?”

“Economy is it?” echoed Mr. Blake, with a groan; “for the matter of that, my dear, it was like my own journey, – a mighty roundabout way of gaining your object, and” – here he sighed heavily – “nothing to boast of when you got it.”