Still, if you wish to go to the Hotel d'Europe, the man
must take you. There is no other conveyance and he is bound to do so.
But I warn you that it will be full, or the omnibus would have been
here."
Turning to the man, he threatened to report him, gave him his orders,
and said he should inquire on the morrow how they had been carried out.
We struggled into the omnibus, which was already fairly packed with men
who looked very much like horsedealers, the surly driver slammed the
door, and the station-master politely bowed us away.
The curtain dropped upon Act I.; Comedy or Tragedy as the event might
prove.
It soon threatened to be Tragedy. The omnibus tore down a steep hill as
if the horses as well as the driver had been indulging, swayed from side
to side and seemed every moment about to overturn. Now the passengers
were all thrown to the right of the vehicle, now to the left, and now
they all collided in the centre. The enraged driver was having his
revenge upon us, and we repented our boldness in trusting our lives in
his hands. But the sturdy Bretons accepted the situation so calmly that
we felt there must still be a chance of escape.
So it proved. In due time it drew up at the Hotel d'Europe with the
noise of an artillery waggon, and out came M. Hellard, the landlord. His
appearance, with his white hair and benevolent face, was sufficient to
recommend him, to begin with.
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