"I do not understand. There is the patient," she murmured vaguely.
"What does it mean? I cannot understand."
"My good creature," he replied roughly, "what the devil does it matter
to me whether you understand or whether you do not understand? Her
ladyship is, as I have told you, at Berne. If you please to follow her
there, do so. It is your own affair, not mine. If you prefer to go back
to London, do so. Still--your own affair. Is there anything else to
say?"
Nothing. Fanny took up her box--this time the doctor did not offer to
carry it for her.
"Where are you going?" he asked. "What have you decided?"
"I can get round by the Chemin de Fer de Ceinture to the Lyons station.
I shall take the first cheap train which will take me to Berne."
"Bon voyage!" said the doctor, cheerfully, and shut the door.
It is a long journey from Paris to Berne even for those who can travel
first class and express--that is, if sixteen hours can be called a long
journey. For those who have to jog along by third class, stopping at
all the little country stations, it is a long and tedious journey
indeed. The longest journey ends at last. The train rolled slowly into
the station of Berne, and Fanny descended with her box. Her wanderings
were over for the present. She would find her mistress and be at rest.
She asked to be directed to the Hotel d'Angleterre. The Swiss guardian
of the peace with the cocked hat stared at her. She repeated the
question.
"Hotel d'Angleterre?" he echoed. "There is no Hotel d'Angleterre in
Berne."
"Yes, yes; there is. I am the maid of a lady who is staying at that
hotel."
"No; there is no Hotel d'Angleterre," he reported. "There is the Hotel
Bernehof."
"No." She took out the paper and showed it to him--"Lady Harry Norland,
Hotel d'Angleterre, Berne."
"There is the Hotel de Belle Vue, the Hotel du Faucon, the Hotel
Victoria, the Hotel Schweizerhof. There is the Hotel schrodel, the
Hotel Schneider, the Pension Simkin."
Fanny as yet had no other suspicion than that the doctor had
accidentally written a wrong name. Her mistress was at Berne: she would
be in one of the hotels. Berne is not a large place. Very good; she
would go round to the hotels and inquire. She did so. There are not, in
fact, more than half a dozen hotels in Berne where an English lady
could possibly stay. Fanny went to every one of these. No one had heard
of any such lady: they showed her the lists of their visitors. She
inquired at the post-office. No lady of that name had asked for
letters. She asked if there were any pensions, and went round them
all--uselessly.