What a babel! But see, there are more outside hurrying about hither and thither in wild confusion, demanding of every official they meet what time the train leaves and where they can find it, notwithstanding the fact that they have been told a score of times already. Interpreters, Cook's men, Gaze's men, and couriers are bustling about collecting their flocks together. Porters with trolleys and hand-barrows piled up with luggage are to be seen hauling and shoving and struggling to push their way through the impenetrable forest of human beings. To the casual observer calmly surveying the scene, the entire place seems to be a hopeless muddle in which reigns a veritable pandemonium. More and more people enter the train, until it seems incapable of being moved at all, while the huge filthy-looking black engine, so different from the brilliantly painted and exquisitely kept British ones, is belching forth a torrent of black smoke, and blowing off steam with such violence and din as to render all conversation impossible. Here one may see a regular procession of boxes, rugs, and bags all waiting to be weighed, while a file of fifty people or more are standing at the guichet awaiting the delivery of their luggage checks. The train was crowded to suffocation, and but for Delapine's foresight our friends could not have obtained seats. As it was, Marcel and Riche were pushed into a compartment already nearly full, much to the disgust and annoyance of the passengers who were arranging their rugs for a comfortable sleep during the night. "That is not good enough for me," said Riche, "I'll bet you a five-franc piece we will get a compartment all to ourselves." "Done," said Marcel, "but you are bound to lose it, my boy." "Not a bit of it, you watch me." "Guard," Riche shouted as the bell rang and the doors were being shut, "this is a smoking compartment and we greatly object to smoking." Marcel looked at Riche and gave a low whistle. "Can't be helped," said the guard, "we're just off." "Excuse me," said Riche in a commanding voice, "I am Monsieur Faure of the Engineering Department, and I must call your attention to Section XIII. Paragraph 79 of the byelaws of the Administration." "I don't know your name, sir." "Silence, sir, when I speak. I have only recently been appointed assistant to M. Demange, the chief engineer." The guard looked him up and down, and scanned his face critically to see if he were joking, but Riche never moved a muscle. "But, monsieur," said the guard, apologizing profusely, "it is impossible, the train is due to start," and he shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands in despair. "Remember that you are speaking to a high official on the Railway," replied Riche, looking severely at him. "Now you know who I am, look sharp, or I shall be obliged to report you."