Foiled thus by the railway staff—­and I desire to place on record here my deliberate opinion after many years’ experience in many lands, that for rudeness and overbearing manners the Swiss functionary has no equal in the whole world—­I went outside the station and sought information among the cabmen and touts who hang about waiting to take up travellers.  I accosted all the drivers patiently one by one, but could gather nothing definite from any of them.  Most had been on the stand at the arrival of the midday train, many had been engaged to convey passengers and baggage up into the town of Lausanne, and had deposited their fares at various hotels and private residences, but no one had driven any party answering to those of whom I was in search.

This practically decided the point that my lady had not left the station in a carriage or openly, if she had walked.  But that she had not been observed did not dispose of the question.  They were dull, stupid men, these, only intent on their own business, who would pay little attention to humble persons on foot showing no desire to hire a cab.  I would not be baffled thus soon in my quest.  A confidential agent who will not take infinite pains in his researches had better seek some other line of business.  As I stood there in front of the great station belonging to the Jura-Simplon, I saw facing me a small facade of the Gare Sainte Luce, one of the intermediate stations on the Ficelle or cable railway that connects Ouchy on the lake with Lausanne above.

It was not a hundred yards distant; it could be easily and quickly reached, and without much observation, if a person waited till the immediate neighbourhood had been cleared by the general exodus after the arrival of the chief express of the day.  There were any number of trains by this funiculaire—­at every half-hour indeed—­and any one taking this route could reach either Lausanne or Ouchy after a very few minutes’ journey up or down.  To extend my investigation on that side was of obvious and pressing importance.  I was only too conscious of my great loss of time, now at the outset, which might efface all tracks and cut me off hopelessly from any clue.

I was soon across and inside the Sainte Luce station, but still undecided which direction I should choose, when the little car arrived going upward, and I ran over to that platform and jumped in.  I must begin one way or the other, and I proceeded at once to question the conductor, when he nicked my ticket, only to draw perfectly blank.

“Have I seen two ladies and a child this morning?  But, grand Dieu, I have seen two thousand.  It is idiote to ask such questions, monsieur, of a busy man.”

“I can pay for what I want,” I whispered gently, as I slipped a five-franc piece into his hand, ever mindful of the true saying, Point d’argent, point de Suisse; and the bribe entirely changed his tone.

“A lady, handsome, tall, distinguished, comme il faut, with a companion, a servant, a nurse carrying a child?” He repeated my description, adding, “Parfaitement, I saw her.  She was not one to forget quickly.”