If so—­if she thought me one of her persecutors—­she would hardly look upon me without repugnance, yet I almost believed it was all the other way.  I had an idea that she did not altogether dislike me, that she was pleased with my personal appearance.  Why not?  I had had my successes in my time, and may say, although it sounds conceited, that I had won the approval of other ladies quite as high-toned.  By and by it might be my unpleasant duty to be disagreeable.  In the meantime it would be amusing, enjoyable, to make friends.

So far I had still to ascertain the direction in which she was bound.  She had taken her ticket.  That might be safely inferred, for she was in the waiting-room with her porter and her bags, ready to pass out upon the platform as soon as the doors were opened. (Everyone knows that the idiotic and uncomfortable practice still prevails in Switzerland of shutting passengers off from the train till the very last moment.)

This waiting-room served for many lines, and I could only wait patiently to enter the particular train for which she would be summoned.  When at length an official unlocked the door and announced the train for Biel, Neuchatel, Lausanne, and Brieg, she got up to take her seat, and I had no longer any doubt as to the direction of her journey.  So as I saw her go, I slipped back to the ticket-office and took my place all the way to Brieg, the furthest point on the line.  This was obviously my best and safest plan, as I should then be ready for anything that happened.  I could get out anywhere, wherever she did, in fact.  After getting my ticket I found time to telegraph to Falfani at Lucerne, giving him my latest news, and then proceeded to the train.

I found the lady easily enough, and got into the same carriage with her.  It was one of those on the Swiss plan, with many compartments opening into one another en suite.  Although the seat I chose was at a discreet distance, I was able to keep her in view.

I was wondering whether it would be possible for me to break the ice and make her acquaintance, when luck served me better than I dared to hope.  One of the Swiss guards of the train, a surly, overbearing brute, like so many others of his class, accosted her rudely, and from his gestures was evidently taking her to task as to the number and size of her parcels in the net above.  He began to shift them, and, despite her indignant protests in imperfect German, threw some of them on the floor.

This was my opportunity.  I hurried to the rescue, and, being fluent in German as in several other languages—­it is part of my stock in trade—­I sharply reproved the guard and called him an unmannerly boor for his cowardly treatment of an unprotected lady.  My reward was a sweet smile, and I felt encouraged to hazard a few words in reply to her cordial thanks.  She responded quickly, readily, and I thought I might improve the occasion by politely inquiring if I could be of any further service to her.