er the proper one for him to enter, and
he was soon among the jostling crowd that surrounded the low counter,
behind which were the customs officials, who sometimes opened a bag and
glanced over the contents, and then hastily marked on it with a piece of
chalk, but oftener simply chalked it without examining anything
whatever, which latter harmless operation was all to which Will's
effects were subjected.

Rejoiced at getting through so easily, he turned to hasten out to the
cars again, but the door by which he had entered was now closed, and
guarded by a gendarme. From the gestures the latter made when he
attempted to pass him, Will understood that he was to go out by another
exit into an adjoining waiting-room, where he found most of the other
passengers assembled in the true flock-of-sheep style; but while he was
wondering where he might be driven to next, he saw through the window
the train, containing his brother, his ticket, and his power of speech,
whirl suddenly away into the darkness, and disappear.

"Hallo here! let me out!" cried Will, rushing up to the officer
stationed at the door. "I'm going to Cologne on those cars, don't you
understand?"

But the man evidently did not understand, for he shook his head in a
most stupid fashion, at the same time feeling for his sword, as though
afraid "le jeune Americain" were going to brush past him with the energy
characteristic of the nation.

Seeing that it was now too late for him to catch the already vanished
train, even if he should succeed in gaining the tracks, Will gave up the
attempt, and resigned himself to his fate.

"But why are not the other passengers in as great a state of anxiety as
I am?" he thought, as he looked around at his sleepy fellow-travellers,
who had disposed themselves about the room in various attitudes of
weariness and patience. "Perhaps, though, they're not going to Cologne;
very likely they're all bound for some place in Belgium here, on another
road. And now what's to become of me, a green American, with no French
at my tongue's end but 'oui' and 'parlez-vous,' not a sign of a ticket,
and with but six francs in my purse? Oh, Charlie, why did you send me
out with this bag?" and Will paced nervously up and down the
waiting-room, trying to think of a way out of his predicament. Suddenly
a happy idea struck him.

"I'll go out by the door that opens into the town, and walk along till I
come to the end of the station building, and then p