Nothing pacifies the wretched so quickly as to find that someone else shares their distress. Denise listened to Virginie's entreaties; she exerted herself to summon her courage; she wiped her eyes, rose, and said with a long-drawn sigh: "I'll go back to the village then." "Yes, my dear girl, that's the wisest thing you can do." "But suppose he should come back, madame?" "Well, I'll let you know, I'll come and tell you; I promise to do my utmost to learn something about him." "Ah! how good you are, madame!" "Why, no--the trouble is that you're a slip of a girl who ought to be kept under glass." "Monsieur le concierge," said Denise, "if you hear anything about Monsieur Auguste, don't forget to ask where he is, and find out where a person can write to him." "Ja, mamzelle." "Don't you be afraid, little Denise: I'll come often and ask Dutchy if he knows anything. He's a good fellow, though he does smoke all the time, is Monsieur--What's your name?" "Schtrack." "Schtrack! Oh! what a name! Schtrack! I believe that that means blackguardism in German. Never mind--au revoir, Monsieur Schtrack. Come, my love, I'll walk to the diligence office with you." Denise left Auguste's late abode, and, with her arm through Virginie's, returned to the diligence office, carrying the bag of money which she had no choice but to take back to the village. Virginie offered to take the trip with her, but the girl declined her offer with thanks, and, after urging her to try to find out something concerning the man whom she had hoped to find in Paris, she entered the stage and rode sadly back to Montfermeil, saying to herself: "Alas! I am not lucky in my trips to Paris." XXI THE TRAVELLERS' FIRST ADVENTURE Auguste and Bertrand had taken the Lyon diligence. The young man was inside, and his companion on the box,--in order to enjoy the fresh air, so he told Auguste, but in reality as an economical measure. It was the first time that Auguste had ever found himself in a public conveyance; accustomed as he was to drive in a light cabriolet, drawn by spirited horses, and to follow naught save his own desires and stop whereever he chose, it was not without a feeling of disgust that he found himself compelled to travel with people whom he did not know, to be pushed by this one, elbowed by that one, and forced to listen to conversations which had no interest for him. At his left was a stout party of some fifty years, with a cotton cap on his head, surmounted by a red handkerchief, and over it all a helmet-shaped cap trimmed with fur, with vizors before and behind. At his right was an old woman, whose face luckily was concealed beneath a shabby black satin bonnet, over which was thrown a green veil that no one was tempted to raise.