"I think so. Have you the papers?" "Yes." They read three or four papers, Parisian papers, and read them like true Parisians. It took a short fifteen minutes. While reading they exchanged short remarks about the new ministry, the races at Auteuil, and Yvette Guilbert--particularly about Yvette Guilbert. Young Chamblard had been to hear her the day before, and he hummed the refrain: "Un fiacre allait trottinant Cahin-caha Hu dia! Hop la! Un fiacre allait trottinant Jaune avec un cocher blanc." And as the light cavalryman had never heard Yvette Guilbert sing the "Fiacre," young Chamblard threw up his arms and exclaimed: "You never heard the 'Fiacre,' and you had three months' leave! What did you do in Paris? _I_ know the 'Fiacre' by heart." Upon which Raoul began to hum again, and while humming in a voice which became more and more slow, and more and more feeble, he settled back into his arm-chair, and soon fell into a peaceful slumber, like the big baby that he was. All at once he was waked up with a start by the stepping of the train, and by the voice of the conductor, who cried, "Ouah! Ouah! Ouah!" The cry is the same for all stations. This time it was meant for Laroche. And now for the telegram. Young Chamblard ran to the telegraph-office. The immovable operator counted the sixty-seven words of that queer despatch. "All aboard, all aboard!" Young Chamblard had scarcely time to jump on the step of his car. "Ouf! that's done," he said to the cavalryman. "Suppose we lunch." So they both started on their way to the dining-car. It was quite a journey, for two parlor-cars separated them from the restaurant-car, and those two cars were crowded. It was the season for the great pilgrimage of a few Parisians and a good many English towards Nice, Cannes, and Monte Carlo. The express was running very fast, and was pitching violently. One needed sea-legs. Then a furious wind beat against the train, and wrapped it in clouds of dust, making the crossing of the platforms particularly disagreeable. They advanced, walking with difficulty through the first car, over the first crossing, and encountering the first squall, then through the second car; but Chamblard, who went ahead, had difficulty in opening the door to the second platform. It resisted on account of the force of the wind; finally it yielded, and Raoul received at the same time in his eyes a cloud of dust, and in his arms a young blonde, who exclaimed, "Oh, excuse me!" while he, too, exclaimed, "Oh, excuse me!" and at the same time he received the cavalryman on his back, who, also blinded by the dust, was saying, "Go on, Raoul, go on." The two doors of the cars had shut, and they were all three crowded in the little passage in the wind--young Raoul, young Maurice, and the young blonde.