My Austrian Love

ack to my carriage, but was told that I had to pass through an adjoining room. Heaven does not know why; much less does anybody else. In that room, out of wh

ss door and looking at that unreachable goal, my

reminded me singularly of a cock's compliments to a hen. He had a most wonderful uniform which fitted him to perfection. He had also a moustache, oh, what a moustache! It gave me an idea of how his horse must be curried. And he wore a single eye-g

find that the porter whom I had entrusted with my bags and valise

ection occupied?" asked a ra

saw my pretty off

tion. I guessed that my journey would be en tête à tête, and, of course, wondered whether she was young and pretty. Her companion was himself such an accomplished beauty, that I had in fact omitted to look at

aint whistl

of the station. For a while the lady remained leaning out of the window and waving her handkerchief. Then, at length, she sat ba

lips to a better advantage. And her features were much too soft as to be spoiled by that alleged air of indifference. They were not very regular, these featu

had she been thinking of her companion? That smile-was it coque

t officer? A sister

bonnet. Bonnets deceive. This is the reason why

ed like an officer's wife. Besides, had she been his sister, he would scarcely have played the cock and hen game

she had no rings on her fingers. And then, as if to satisfy my wishes, she removed the b

showy dress and her travelling first-class confirmed it. She was nicely brought up, as became a young and noble lady, for she wore no jewellery. (In my idea wearing jewellery is inconsistent with a young lady's good

easy of belief, and superficial. If I tell you that I was a musician (I d

fficer, whom I first saw eight years ago at the Salzburg railway station, is still alive, and whether he has jam, too? And whether he

arter of an hour since we had left Salzburg, and the train had go

elling, you do not start a conversation at once, you generally never will. So I fretted. I had nothing to read,

che and pointed tuft of beard on his chin. It was so striking that my English brain, brought up chiefly on detective stories, smelt at once a mystery. I could not refrain from stepping out with him on to the corridor where, in order to make certain whether the little Frenchman and the conductor were but one person

and blinking with his eyes half clos

e travelling

g expression under his black eyebrows, "I travel the whole way with

se-that high-priest of the railway church mentally pronounced the d

took no immediate effect. For when I returned to my sea

h desperate equanimity at the landsca

illy. I

w strap. It was at that moment that I notice

3.3

e not yet introduced myself to the reader, I take this opportunity of telling him (or her) that my name is Patrick Cooper, of

er a musician, but a Lance-Corporal (all honour to me!) my superstition survives. For instance: I am a pas

plate of the carriage door could not but fill me with a certain awe. Ye

other thought came, namely: If I were not soon to engage in convers

ning. If in three minutes, at 3.33, nothing happened, I would talk. The weather might afford quite a suitable topic, if not new nor in any way

in, and at 3.33 exactly the Comtesse was pitched from her seat into my arms, while one of my bags came to the floor and the train to

r one, after we had struggl

to cry all at once and hur

ething wrong,

r some technical reason, was only single tracked, and r

to alight at once,

here? The worst is over. If there is anyth

e from her paleness and from the way she looked, wide eyed, at me. Out of the bag

said, offering

epted,

lish are!" said she. "L

o be done. One woman was kneeling and praying hysterically at the foot of a telegraph post which she probably was mistaking for a way-side cross. And everybody was talking, crying. It was all the more ridiculous, as there had, in fact, happened nothin

sence of mind, behaved like sheep, looking to each other, appealing for

frightened. That was why the Comtesse had called me phlegmatic. I hoped that it was my calmness which had made h

ubsided and a period of silence followed. People went back into their carriages. Even the little conductor had di

sse began

ittle pale," said I

dded m

l? You feel tired? Yo

he proteste

ant a little

," she

atisfied. She s

your luggage. Do you

e no l

ve no l

N

ght none into the car either. Sti

o anything

tell me t

quarter p

e when ar

e foreshad

.3

e cried. "But we will arrive in

oked a

next station. There followed a lot of man?uvring; the train which had run into our's had first to be removed, and then the two engines, of which only the wheels wer

greeable talker. Perhaps was she too nervous to keep silent, for I had to inform her of the time every quarter of an hour. But she did not tell me why; whether somebody was awaiting her, or whether there was some particular reason for her to dread her late arrival. Nor did I learn anything about her. She r

. As she had told me about the difficulty of getting a c

would be

, but never mind.) It was not a very easy task, and I had plenty of time to prepare myself for the three questions which I absolutely must ask her before we parted: Whether, when, and where I should

Comtesse had gone. My bags were standing lonely