CROSSING THE CHANNEL Without in any way disclosing my identity—which, indeed, would be of no special interest to the reader—I may say that I occupy a somewhat important position in our Diplomatic Service, and it was in this capacity that I had to visit Paris in the month of October 19—. I have often had occasion to visit Paris and it is always with the greatest pleasure that I return to this delightful city where every man can satisfy his tastes and desires whatever they may be. But on this occasion, more than ever before, chance, that great disposer of events, was to be on my side and had in store for me an adventure of the most delightful description. I had had a pleasant run down to Folkestone and had gone on board one of those excellent boats which cross to Boulogne in something under two hours. It was blowing decidedly hard and the boat was rolling heavily but I did not mind this for I am a good sailor and I thought to myself that I should be able to enjoy in comparative solitude that delightful feeling which results from a contemplation of the immensity of the ocean and of our own littleness as well as the wild beauty of a troubled sea. And, as a matter of fact, the deck soon became deserted and I was left alone, but for the presence of a young girl who was standing at the rail not far from me. From time to time my looks wandered from the whitecrested waves and rested upon the charming figure that was before me, and finally I abandoned all contemplation of the infinite and all poetical and philosophical meditation and became wholly absorbed in my pretty travelling companion. For she was indeed lovely and the mobile and intellectual features of her charming face seemed to denote a very agreeable character