It was a delightfully comfortable little vehicle—­cushioned, soft, yielding, and pervaded by a delicate perfume of eglantine.  Wondering who the owner might be—­if she was young—­if she was pretty—­if she was married, or single, or a widow—­I settled myself in the darkest corner of the carriage, intending only to remain there till the rain had abated.  Thus I fell, as fate would have it—­first into a profound reverie, and then into a still profounder sleep.  How long this sleep may have lasted I know not.  I only remember becoming slowly conscious of a gentle movement, which, without awaking, partly roused me; of a check to that movement, which brought my thoughts suddenly to the surface; of a stream of light—­of an open door—­a crowded hall—­a lady waiting to come out, and a little crowd of attentive beaux surrounding her!

I comprehended my position in an instant, and the impossibility of extricating myself from it.  To get out next the house was to brave detection; whilst at the other side I found myself blocked in by carriages.  Escape was now hopeless!  I turned hot and cold; I shrank back; I would have gone through the bottom of the carriage, if I could.  At this moment, to my horror, the footman opened the door.  I gave myself up for lost, and, in a sudden access of desperation, was on the point of rushing out coute que coute, when the lady ran forward; sprang lightly in; recoiled; and uttered a little breathless cry of surprise and apprehension!

“Mon Dieu, Madame! what is it?  Are you hurt?” cried two or three of the gentlemen, running out, bareheaded, to her assistance.

But, to my amazement, she unfastened her cloak, and threw it over me in such a manner as to leave me completely hidden beneath the folds.

“Oh, nothing, thank you!—­I only caught my foot in my cloak.  I am really quite ashamed to have alarmed you!  A thousand thanks—­good-night.”

And so, with something of a slight tremor in her voice, the lady drew up the window.  The next instant the carriage moved on.

And now, what was to be done?  I blessed the accident which rendered me invisible; but, at the same time, asked myself how it was to end.

Should I wait till she reached her own door, and then, still feigning sleep, allow myself to be discovered?  Or should I take the bull by the horns, and reveal myself?  If the latter, would she scream, or faint, or go into hysterics?  Then, again, supposing she resumed her cloak ... a cold damp broke out upon my forehead at the mere thought!  All at once, just as these questions flashed across my mind, the lady drew the mantle aside, and said:—­

“How imprudent of you to hide in my carriage?”

I could not believe my ears.

“Suppose any of those people had caught sight of you ... why, it would have been all over Paris to-morrow!  Happily, I had the presence of mind to cover you with my cloak; otherwise ... but there, Monsieur, I have a great mind to be very angry with you!”