They marched in here with a brass band--too much--Whoa! _le petit_, whoa!--too much for our feelings.

There--_bonjour_, Monsieur Turner--how goes it?
There--now we stand still.
"Not for long," said Turner, doubtfully; "and I never get in or out of anything when it is in motion." With the assistance of sundry idle persons we held the horse still enough for my friend to take his seat beside Alphonse, while I and the luggage found place behind them.

We dashed out of the gate at a speed and risk which gave obvious satisfaction to our driver, and our progress up the narrow High Street was a series of hairbreadth escapes.
"It is a pleasure," said Alphonse, airily, as we passed the lighthouse and the cob settled down into a steady trot, "to drive such a horse as this." "No doubt," said Turner; "but next time I take a cab." We arrived at the Manor House in time for luncheon, and were received by the ladies at the door.

Lucille, I remember, looked grave, but it appeared that the Vicomtesse was in good spirits.
"Then the news is true," she cried, before we had descended from our high places.
"Yes, Madame, for a wonder good news is true," answered Turner, and he stood bareheaded, after the manner of his adopted country, while he shook hands.
On this occasion we all frankly spoke French, for to John Turner this language was second nature.

We had plenty to talk of during luncheon, and learnt much from the Paris banker which had never appeared in the newspapers.