Wagner at Home (Illustrated)

The train moved slowly, as becomes a well-conducted Swiss train that winds through beautiful country, and has no intention of blurring the views by undue haste. At each station there was a long stop, a slow renewal of leisurely motion.
To our little company of impatient French people within the compartment this slow progress was very trying. A feverish excitement possessed us; we could not sit still; from time to time we thrust our heads between the curtains to gaze in advance of the train. Villiers de l'Isle-Adam was one of us and most enthusiastic of all, his emotion continually bubbling over into spasmodic laughter and disjointed phrases.
On an ordinary excursion this slowness of the train would not have troubled us—but to-day—to-day we were going to Lucerne to see for the first time—Richard Wagner!
The swiftest "Express" would have seemed slow to us, yet we half dreaded the moment of arrival—when we should see the Master, hear him, speak to him!