The Secret of the Blue Trunk Read Online Free PDF Page B

strangers and made us promise we would always keep in sight of the nun who was in charge of us during the journey. She also gave us our legal papers. These enabled us to travel overseas under supervision. We were too young yet to have our own passports.
    A funny noise reached us from outside. Everyone turned around and we saw the car, all black and shiny, with its four white-wall tires. I couldn’t believe it. The automobile that would take us to the railway station was simply magnificent. It could hold six people.
    I settled myself on the back seat and kept totally still. Only my fingers moved as I stroked the golden velvet of the seat. I was so excited I hardly dared take another breath, afraid to miss this unique moment. I tried to make myself tiny so no one would ask me to get out. Someone talked to me, but I didn’t answer. In my nervousness I had forgotten my suitcase. I just wanted the automobile to get going. The driver switched on the ignition and we left. The huge car ran wonderfully smoothly. We barely felt the holes in the road and the stones, and that amazed us, since we were used to horse-drawn carriages shaking us energetically about whenever their wheels struck the slightest obstacle.
    Already I prepared myself for the moment we would be asked to get out. The driver had left his window half open and I felt the chilly October wind on my cheeks. I closed my eyes and a great wave of happiness swept through me. I knew that from then on I would always love going for a drive.
    Half an hour later, we arrived at the station. I stepped out of the car with a heavy heart. I would have wanted the ride to last longer. One of the fathers went to get the tickets. I was handed my suitcase with the warning to be careful not to lose it again. For the first time I saw the platform and my excitement grew.
    Soon the train to Quebec City would enter the station at the scheduled time. If I already found the automobile huge, the train was even more astounding. It was interminably long and at least two storeys high. I was most impressed by its whistle announcing the train’s entry into the station. As soon as I could, I climbed the three steps of the narrow stairs leading to the car where we were supposed to seat ourselves, and looked back to admire the station from my new vantage point.
    The car’s ceiling and walls were made of metal while the bench seats on either side were upholstered in black imitation leather. Some of the benches even allowed us to sit face to face with one another. After the size of the train, I think this surprised me the most. I don’t know what came over me, but I ran to reserve a place on one of the benches. Astonished by my reaction, one of the fathers asked me to be a little less demonstrative and try to quiet down. He reminded me that given the number of hours we would spend on the train, I would have more than enough time to try all the seats, should I want to.
    When I stepped into the dining-car a little later, I had to control myself all over again. I just stood there, flabbergasted. Unable to walk down the corridor and look for a seat, I obediently followed the nun who grabbed my arm and made me sit close to her at the table. I simply couldn’t get over it. We could eat, sitting at a table, while the train travelled along! And, what’s more, while admiring the passing scenery! I didn’t miss a second of that first trip. It lasted five hours. I saw lakes, forests, farms, and animals slip by. It was like a picture book changing from page to page. When we arrived in Quebec City, we glimpsed the station in the distance before slowly entering it. It was as though we went into a castle surrounded by turrets. And I hadn’t seen anything yet! There were still Montreal’s Windsor Station and the station in New York to discover.
    At a certain point, I forgot where I was. Travelling had tired me out, of course, but there was also all that nervous excitement at the many discoveries I made. I felt as if