mugglers, seeing we are
so near the gates. He deserves my giving him in charge, for bringing me
all the way from the Rue de Vaugirard."

At twenty steps beyond the little door, the coach again stopped, and the
coachman descended from the box to execute the orders he had received.
Going to the little door, he knocked three times; then paused, as he had
been desired, and then knocked three times more. The clouds, which had
hitherto been so thick as entirely to conceal the disk of the moon, just
then withdrew sufficiently to afford a glimmering light, so that when the
door opened at the signal, the coachman saw a middle-sized person issue
from it, wrapped in a cloak, and wearing a colored cap.

This man carefully locked the door, and then advanced two steps into the
street. "They are waiting for you," said the coachman; "I am to take you
along with me to the coach."

Preceding the man with the cloak, who only answered him by a nod, he led
him to the coach-door, which he was about to open, and to let down the
step, when the voice exclaimed from the inside: "It is not necessary. The
gentleman may talk to me through the window. I will call you when it is
time to start."

"Which means that I shall be kept here long enough to send you to all the
devils!" murmured the driver. "However, I may as well walk about, just to
stretch my legs."

So saying, he began to walk up and down, by the side of the wall in which
was the little door. Presently he heard the distant sound of wheels,
which soon came nearer and nearer, and a carriage, rapidly ascending the
slope, stopped on the other side of the little garden-door.

"Come, I say! a private carriage!" said the coachman. "Good horses those,
to come up the Rue Blanche at a trot."

The coachman was just making this observation, when, by favor of a
momentary gleam of light, he saw a man step from the carriage, advance
rapidly to the little door, open it, and go in, closing it after him.

"It gets thicker and thicker!" said the coachman. "One comes out, and the
other goes in."

So saying, he walked up to the carriage. It was splendidly harnessed, and
drawn by two handsome and vigorous horses. The driver sat motionless, in
his great box-coat, with the handle of his whip resting on his right
knee.

"Here's weather to drive about in, with such tidy dukes as yours,
comrade!" said the humble hackney-coachman to this automaton, who
remained mute and impassible, without even appearing t