to
see my captors consulting how they could best compel me to tell what
I knew. These scenes and others of like nature entertained me while
I waited for the coast--or rather platform--to be cleared. When at
length all the immediate guards were gone, I started out to find
my way, if possible, to the train for Aix. I have read of travelers
cutting their way through trackless forests, of ice-bound mariners
anxiously seeking the North-west passage, and, worse than all, of
luckless countrymen wandering bewildered through the streets of
Boston; but I am confident that no traveler, mariner or countryman
ever sought his way with more circumspection and diligence than I in
my search for a passage between those two platforms.

As I glanced cautiously up and down I saw a door standing open at
some little distance. Around that door all my hopes were immediately
centred. It might lead directly to the custom-house; it might be the
entrance to the barracks of the guards; it might be--I knew not what;
but it might afford a passage to the other platform.

I walked quickly to the door, glanced in, saw no one and entered. The
room was a baggage-room, and at that moment unoccupied. It instantly
occurred to me that a baggage-room _ought_ to open on both platforms.
I felt as though I could have shouted "Eureka!" and I am confident
that the joy of Archimedes as he rushed through the streets of
Syracuse was no greater than mine as I felt that I had so unexpectedly
discovered the passage I was seeking. Passing through this room, I
found myself in a second, like the former unoccupied. It had occurred
to me that all the doors might be closed, and the thought had
considerably abated my rejoicing; but no! I saw a door which stood
invitingly open.

No guards were stationed on the platform; so I stepped out, and before
me stood the train for Aix, into which my fellow-passengers were
entering, some of them still holding their passports in their hands.
Taking my seat in one of the carriages, in a few moments the train
started and I was on my way to Aix. The relief was unspeakably great.
An instant before it seemed as if nothing short of a miracle
could save me from a French guard-house, and now, by the simplest
combination of circumstances, in which a restaurant and baggage-room
bore an important part, I had passed unchallenged. I remember that I
enjoyed the scenery and views along the route from Culoz to Aix more
than while passing from Belgarde