Saying which, he hailed a passing fiacre and bade the coachman drive to the Embarcadere of the Rive Droite.

“We shall amuse ourselves famously at Courbevoie,” he said, as we rattled over the stones.  “We’ll dine at the Toison d’Or—­an excellent little restaurant overlooking the river; and if you’re fond of angling, we can hire a punt and catch our own fish for dinner.  Then there will be plenty of fiddling and dancing at the guingettes and gardens in the evening.  By the way, though, I’ve no money!  That is to say, none worth speaking of—­voila!... one franc, one piece of fifty centimes, another of twenty centimes, and some sous.  I hope your pockets are better lined than mine.”

“Not much, I fear,” I replied, pulling out my porte-monnaie, and emptying the contents into my hand.  They amounted to nine francs and seventy-five centimes.

“Parbleu! we’ve just eleven francs and a half between us,” said Mueller.  “A modest sum-total; but we must make it as elastic as we can.  Let me see, there’ll be a franc for the fiacre, four francs for our return tickets, four for our dinner, and two and a half to spend as we like in the fair.  Well, we can’t commit any great extravagance with that amount of floating capital.”

“Better turn back and go to my rooms for some more money?” I exclaimed.  “I’ve two Napoleons in my desk.”

“No, no—­we should miss the three-fifty train, and not get another till between five and six.”

“But we shall have no fun if we have no money!”

“I dissent entirely from that proposition, Monsieur Englishman.  I have always had plenty of fun, and I have been short of cash since the hour of my birth.  Come, it shall be my proud task to-day to prove to you the pleasures of impecuniosity!”

So with our eleven francs and a half we went on to the station, and took our places for Courbevoie.

We travelled, of course, by third class in the open wagons; and it so happened that in our compartment we had the company of three pretty little chattering grisettes, a fat countrywoman with a basket, and a quiet-looking elderly female with her niece.  These last wore bonnets, and some kind of slight mourning.  They belonged evidently to the small bourgeoise class, and sat very quietly in the corner of the carriage, speaking to no one.  The three grisettes, however, kept up an incessant fire of small talk and squabble.

“I was on this very line last Sunday,” said one.  “I went with Julie to Asnieres, and we were so gay!  I wonder if it will be very gay at Courbevoie.”

“Je m’en doute,” replied another, whom they called Lolotte.  “I came to one of the Courbevoie fetes last spring, and it was not gay at all.  But then, to be sure, I was with Edouard, and he is as dull as the first day in Lent.  Where were you last Sunday, Adele?”

“I did not go beyond the barriers.  I went to the Cirque with my cousin, and we dined in the Palais Royal.  We enjoyed ourselves so much!  You know my cousin?”