sort of face it was to which my eyes were raised and on which they were fixed, I felt in its expression half-surprise at my appeal and half-doubt of the wisdom of interference.
"Do ask him; I would do as much for you," said I.
I don't know whether he smiled, but he said in a gentlemanly tone; that is to say, a tone not hard nor terrifying,—
"What sort of trunk was yours?"
I described it, including in my description the green ribbon. And forthwith he took the conductor under hand, and I felt, through all the storm of French which followed, that he raked him fore and aft. Presently he returned to me.
"The fellow avers he was overloaded, and confesses that he removed your trunk after you saw it put on, and has left it behind at Boue-Marine with other parcels; he has promised, however, to forward it to-morrow; the day after, therefore, you will find it safe at this bureau."
"Thank you," said I: but my heart sank.
Meantime what should I do? Perhaps this English gentleman saw the failure of courage in my face; he inquired kindly,
