We appeared to go in curves, but each curve brought us nearer to Calais.  As we approached that haven of refuge, it seemed as if every steamer and smack of Calais was coming out to meet us.  The steamers whistled, the owners of smacks bawled and shouted.  They desired to assist; for were we not disabled, and would not the English railway company pay well for help so gallantly rendered?  Our captain, however, made no sign, and, like a wounded, sullen animal, from whom its companions timidly keep a respectful distance, we at length entered Calais harbor, and by dint of much seamanship and polyglottic swearing brought up safely at the quay.

Then it was that one fully perceived, with a feeling of shame, how night had magnified the seriousness of the adventure; how it had been nothing, after all; how it would not fill more than half a column in the newspapers; how the officers of the ship must have despised the excited foolishness of passengers who would not listen to reasonable, commonplace explanations.

The boat was evacuated in the twinkling of an eye.  I have never seen a Channel steamer so quickly empty itself.  It was as though the people were stricken by a sudden impulse to dash away from the poor craft at any cost.  At the Customs, amid all the turmoil and bustle, I saw neither my young friend and his sister, nor my enemy, who so far had clung to me on my journey.

I learned that a train would start in about a quarter of an hour.  I had some coffee and a roll at the buffet.  While I was consuming that trifling refection the young man and his sister joined me.  The girl was taciturn as before, but her brother talked cheerfully as he sipped chocolate; he told me that his name was Watts, and he introduced his sister.  He had a pleasant but rather weak face, and as for his manner and bearing, I could not decide in my own mind whether he was a gentleman or a buyer from some London drapery warehouse on his way to the city of modes.  He gave no information as to his profession or business, and as I had not even returned his confidence by revealing my name, this was not to be wondered at.

“Are you going on to Paris?” he said presently.

“Yes; and the sooner I get there the better I shall be pleased.”

“Exactly,” he smiled.  “I am going, too.  I have crossed the Channel many times, but I have never before had such an experience as last night’s.”

Then we began to compare notes of previous voyages, until a railway official entered the buffet with a raucous, “Voyageurs pour Paris, en voiture.”

There was only one first-class carriage, and into this I immediately jumped, and secured a corner.  Mr. Watts followed me, and took the other corner of the same seat.  Miss Watts remained on the platform.  It was a corridor carriage, and the corridor happened to be on the far side from the platform.  Mr. Watts went out to explore the corridor.  I arranged myself in my seat, placed the jewel-case by my side, and my mackintosh over my knees.  Miss Watts stood idly in front of the carriage door, tapping the platform with her umbrella.