ve all the money that you save for your
own, you must write a full account of your night's journey, and send it
to your cousin Lucy."

"Well, sir," said Rollo, "I will."

Rollo left the dinner table while his father and mother were taking
their coffee. The table was one of a number of separate tables arranged
along by the windows on the front side of a quaint and queer-looking
dining room--or _salle a manger_, as they call it--in one of the Lyons
inns. Indeed, the whole inn was very quaint and queer, with its old
stone staircases, and long corridors leading to the various apartments,
and its antique ceiling,--reminding one, as Mr. Holiday said, of the
inns we read of in Don Quixote and other ancient romances.

Rollo left his father and mother at this table, taking their coffee, and
sallied forth to find his way to the bureau of the diligence.

"If you meet with any difficulty," said Mr. Holiday, as Rollo went away,
"engage the first cab you see, and the cabman will take you directly
there for a franc or so."

"Yes, sir," said Rollo, "I will."

"And if you don't find any cab readily," continued his father, "engage a
commissioner to go with you and show you the way."

"Yes, sir," said Rollo.

A commissioner is a sort of porter who stands at the corners of the
streets in the French towns, ready to do any thing for any body that
calls upon him.

Rollo resolved not to employ either a cabman or a commissioner, if it
could possibly be avoided. He took the address of the bureau from his
father, and sallied forth.

He first went round the corner to a bookstore where he recollected to
have seen a map of Lyons hanging in the window. He looked at this map,
and found the street on it where he wished to go. He then studied out
the course which he was to take. Lyons stands at, or rather near, the
confluence of the two rivers Rhone and Saone. In coming to Lyons from
Paris, the party had come down the valley of the Saone; but now they
were to leave this valley, and follow up that of the Rhone to Geneva,
which is situated, as has already been said, on the Rhone, at the point
where that river issues from the Lake of Geneva.

The hotel where Rollo's father had taken lodgings was near the Saone;
and Rollo found that the bureau was on the other side of the town, where
it fronts on the Rhone.

So Rollo followed the course which he had marked out for himself on the
map. In a short time he saw before him signs of bridges and a ri