The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1884-01-12 00:00:00

iwErafh
A CRIME IN AN OMNIBVS.

A STORY OF PARISIAN LIFE.
BY FORTUNE DU BOISGOBEY.

Translated from the French.

CHAP TER L

Have you ever chanced towards midnight to miss
the last omnibus upon which you depended to take
you home ? If so, and you can afford-it, you will take
a cab; but should your modest fortune forbid this
light extravagance, you will be reduced to reaching
your destination on foot, traversing Paris perhaps
through mud or pouring rain. A hundred
times you will abuse the omnibus company because,
after sixteen hours ()Allard work, it allows some rest
to its tired horses and servants,
But what a rage you get into when, after waiting
on the way for this desired vehicle—the hope of the
belated—and making useless signs to the conductor,
you perceive, in white lettexs on a blue ground, the
dreaded word " Complet!" Still, you trust to for-
tune and continue your walk, flattering yourself
that possibly another will come—an illusion which
serves to lessen your fatigue in reaching your home.
Worse still is it to arrive at the head station of a
line when the last omnibus is about to start quite
full. There is no mistake about it—it is indeed the
last. The man in charge, as he turns the crank to
close the office shutters, assures you there is not
another, and the passengers who have been before
you jeer when you modestly inquire if there be not
one little place left.
The decision admits of no appeal, and your only
mode of progression is by the use of your legs.
It happened one night this winter, just before
twelve, at the corner of the Boulevard St. Germain
and the Rue Cardinal Lemoine, that a female arrived
quite out of breath, just as the driver of the green
omnibus, which goes from the Wine Market to the
Place Pigalle, had climbed to his seat. She was a
tolerably well-dressed woman, and still young—so
far as one could judge by her figure, for a thick
veil concealed her face. She came from the direc-
tion of the Jardin des Plantes, by way of the Quai
St. Bernard, and must have had a long run,
judging by the elifiloulty she experienced in 'asking
the conductor the question commonly uttered by
late comers.
"Every place is taken, ma'am, and there is nothing
after," replied the man, cheekil°y, his papers.
"Oh, dear me !" she murmured; "and I have to
go to Montmartre. I shall never get there."
And well might a walk of five or six kilometres,
at that hour of the night, frighten one of the
weaker sex. A cold north wind was blowing, and
there was snow in the air. The streets of the
quarter were deserted, not a passenger appeared on
the footway, not a cab in sight.
So inclement was the night that no one had ven-
tured to save three sons by riding outside the omni-
bus, with the strong probability of catching cold.
The woman glanced at the roof, and seemed
inclined to mount there and brave the wind rather
than be left behind; but knowing that females are
prohibited from travelling outside, and that the con-
ductors never permit the regulation to be infringed,
ehe put her head into the full machine, hoping
some gallant passenger would take pity on her posi-
tion and give up his place.
It was a poor chance, for the occupants were
nearly all of her own sex; and women seldom forego
a privilege.
She had, however, the unexpected geed fortune to
interest one pefsein of a kindly disposition. A man
seated at the end of the omnibus rose and made his
fia,Y. to the door.
"Get up, ma'am," said he, jumping into the road.
"Oh, air, you are tot.) kind; I millet take advan-
tage of your goodnesex" slae answered.
"Not at all; not at all. lam going to take a
comfortable seat on the top. It certainly is not
warm, but I have a hardy constitution."
"Really, sir, I scarcely know how to thank you,"
exclaimed the lady.
." Now, then, madam, get in, if you please," said
the conductor. "Time's up."
She already had one foot on the step, and hesi-
tated no longer, but, instead of accepting the aid of
the conductor to get in, she received the proffered
assistance of the gentleman who had so kindly
obliged her. She put her hand into his, and per-
haps suffered it to remain there a few seconds
longer than was altogether necessary; but she could
hardly do less for so polite a person, and the action
could convey no warmer meaning, inasmuch as both
had on thick furred gloves. Beside, the individual
was neither young nor good-looking. He might
have been forty, or even more. His moustache and
military-cut whiskers were grey. He wore an over-
coat that looked as though it had been purchased at
a cheap, ready-made tailor's, and a low felt hat—
the sort of hat affected by independent characters
who pay no heed to fashion. He bad tolerably
regular though hard features, cut, as it were, by the
stroke of a hatchet. He climbed to the Imperial
-with remarkable agility, and took a place close to
the steps for descending.
While he was seating himself, and turning up the
collar of his great coat, the lady glided into the
vacated place at the end of the omnibus, between
an old woman muffled in a woollen hood, and a eirl
very simply attired. A little further up, next the
window at the end, there sat a fat old dame, who
ought to have paid for two, as she literally lapped
over her right-hand neighbour; and on the opposite
side was a man—the only one in the conveyance—a
tall young fellow, slim and dark, with a bright eye
and smiling mouth. He had a well-posed head, and
might be an artist, but not one of the wild young
fellows who haunt the wine shops of the exteiior
boulevards. The other passengers belonged to the
class usually met with in an omnibus—shopkeepers
returning home after having passed the evening
with relatives at the other end of Paris; mothers
with babies in arms; workwomen who had been
employed overtime,a and were now falling off to
sleep.
The heavy vehicle moved on; the bell struck six-
teen times for the inside, and once for the Imperial;
the conductor collected the money, and the sous
passed from hand to hand.
The dark man began to examine the companions
horn chance had thrown in his way. Apparently he
found but two worthy of study, and these were im-
mediately opposite him. He had carefully noticed
the little scene which had taken place just before
starting, and it must be said in fairness that he was
about to offer his seat to the lady, when the man
with'the round hat had risen for the same purpose.
He had observed the hand pressure exchanged
between the two, and thought to himself it might
possibly be the commencement of an adventure.
It seemed to him that there was a wide difference
between the two parties. The lady who had so very
quickly consented to be under an obligation to an
unknown person, was evidently of a different:station
in life to the; cavalier, for Lher dress was almost
elegant.
She appearedlo'have a good figure, and her eyes
sparkled through the black net veil, which she per-
sistently kept down.
Any lover of adventure would feel his interest
aroused by the two characters before him, and the
artist divided his attention between the new corner
and the girl at her side. The latter had a veil
attached to her brown velvet hat, so that only the
lower part of her face could be clearly distinguished;
but this showed a dimpled chin, a mouth large but
beautifully formed, and complexion pale almost
like marble. "Spanish colouring," said the dark
man to himself. "I am sure she is lovely; what a
pity the cold prevents her showing the tip of her
nose! They all have the stupid habit of covering
themselves up if the thermometer falls slightly. To
enjoy a pretty girl's entire face one has to wait for
the summer. If only it were lighter in this
wretched omnibus; but one of the lamps is out, and
the other smokes as though it wanted oil. One can
hardly see at all. A crime might be easily committed
here without any one being the wiser."
Continuing his observations, the dark man inferred
that the girl was in humble circumstances. Although
It was the middle of January, she wore a short
mantle without sleeves—what is called "a visite "
of black stuff, so thin and threadbare it made one
Shiver to look at it an alpaca dress of a
purple colour, which had become shinf:by long use,
and she concealed her hands in a scanty muff, that
might have been purchased for a child of twelve.
"Who is she? Where does she come from?
and where is she going?" said the young man to
himself. "Why does her neighbour look at her so
strangely? Is she known to her? No, that cannot
be. as they do not sneak
The omnibus had gone some distance; it was now
passing over the Pont Neuf, and the coachman, in
his desire to get home, urged his horses into a sharp
trot down the incline that reaches to the Quai du
Louvre. Public vehicles are not so well hung as
private carriages; and this sudden rapid motion
gave the passengers a gocid shaking. The young
woman was thrown against, her lady-like fellow
traveller. Clutching her arm, she uttered a faint
moan, followed by a profound sigh.
"Lean upon me if you are ill mademoiselle," said
_
the veiled lady. _
The girl made no reply, but allowed her head to
fall on the shoulder of her compassionate neigh-
bour.
"This young person is ill," said the artist. "I
will stop the omnibus, and--"
"Do not trouble yourself, sir; she is only asleep,"
quietly replied the veiled lady.
I beg your pardon; I was under the impres-
sion—
"No," interrupted the lady," she was bleeping
when the jolting of the omnibus disturbed her.
See, she has gone off again; let her rest."
" Upon you, madam? Are you not afraid
"She will tire me? Oh dear' no! I will hold
her; she shall not slip," replied the lady, passing
her arm around the sleeper's waist.
The dark man bowed in silence. He was a gentle-
man, and thought he had already said enough about
what did not concern him.
"Young girls nowadays are not worth much,"
remarked the fat woman in a bonnet. "I have
Pushed a truck along all the evening to sell my
oranges, and, if I was obliged, my legs would still
eltry me up to the top of Montmartre. Ahi if. that
gillavXll9Wit t slAncte at the loulelicou or the