It was but a short run to the pier of Calais, and the sea-sickness was forgotten when our feet again touched _terra firma_. On landing, we got into a slight difficulty. Morphy speaks the French language with the purest Gallic accent, and the officials would not at first consent to his travelling with a United States passport. This our hero soon cleared up by reading the _gens d'armes_ a _précis_ of the settlement, manners, customs, &c., of the State of Louisiana, and his own antecedents; whereupon that official restored him his _papier règlé_, but confiscated a quantity of underlinen. They told us that was Customary. Eight o'clock in the evening; and if we took the train forthwith, we should arrive in Paris next morning at six. Morphy proposed that we should sleep there that night, and take an early train the following day, which course would enable us to see the town of Calais. So we repaired to the Hotel Dessin, attended to our inner and outer man, and then prepared for a stroll. As the result of our observations, we agreed Calais must have been a magnificent town before the discovery of the principles of architecture. After diligent inquiry, we could not learn that any one knew when the last house was built, and Morphy gave it as his opinion that, were William the Conqueror to revisit Calais, he would find it unchanged, except in being dirtier. When I reminded him that the town possessed peculiar interest for me as an Englishman, he coolly set me down, by observing that he had a very poor opinion of my ancestors for wishing to keep such a place. The next morning we got into the train at a quarter to eight o'clock, and commenced the long, dreary ride of ten mortal hours to Paris. But there was no way out of the difficulty, and, what with yawning and dozing between the stations, and grumbling at the tedious regulation speed of the French railways, we ultimately arrived at the capital. Now every traveller, on getting to this point, thinks he is bound to paint the various emotions arising in his breast on entering the city of the Seine. My own sensations were of strong Anglican bias. I wanted to dine. Morphy is never betrayed into rhapsody, and what he felt he didn't speak. Having again submitted our baggage to the inspection of numerous officials, we thanked our stars for seeing the last of the _Chemin de Fer du Nord_,--drove off to _Meurice's_, where they gave us rooms about the fifteenth story,--started for the _Restaurant des Trois Frères Provençaux_, and got a capital dinner, and then addressed ourselves to the duties of _flaneurs_. I knew the French capital like a _gamin de Paris_; and, without saying a word to Morphy of my intention, I led him quietly down the Palais Royal, past the Théâtre Français, and right into the Café de la Régence. CHAPTER VIII. THE CAFÉ DE LA RÉGENCE.