ho would think
that we were in a besieged city? Everything looks very much as
usual: the shops are open; people walk about and chat, and smoke,
and drink their coffee or absinthe, just as usual. The only
difference is, that everyone is in some sort of uniform or other.
One does not see a single able-bodied man altogether in civilian
dress; and at night the streets are very dismal, owing to there
being no gas."

"How much longer do they seem to expect to hold out, Ralph?"

"Another two months, anyhow; perhaps three, or even more. There
seems to be a large stock of everything, and everyone is put on to
a regular allowance--just enough to live upon, and no more."

"I seem to have everything I want, Ralph; lots of beef tea, and
soup, and jelly, and so on."

"Yes, Percy; but you obtain your food from the hospital. The hotel
could not furnish anything of the kind, I can tell you.

"Here we are. Now you lie down at once, and get to sleep. I will
wake you in plenty of time."

At ten minutes before the appointed time, the boys arrived at the
Northern Railway Station; which presented a very different appearance
to that which it ordinarily wore. No whistle of locomotives, or
rumble of heavy trains, disturbed the silence of the station. A smell
of varnish pervaded the whole place; and several empty balloons hung
from the roof, undergoing the process of drying. The official--who
had received them at the entrance--conducted them outside the station;
and there, in the light of some torches, a great black mass could be
seen, swaying heavily to and fro. The aeronaut was standing beside it.

"Here are the gentlemen who accompany you," the officer said to him.

"How are you, gentlemen?" he said, cheerily. "We have a fine night,
or rather morning; the wind is northerly. I suppose this is your
first ascent?"

"Yes, indeed," Ralph said, "and I own I hope it will be the last.
Have the dispatches arrived?"

"No; I have the mail bags, but not the dispatches Hush! There are a
horse's hoofs."

A few minutes afterwards a railway official brought a note, which
he delivered to Monsieur Teclier.

"Bah!" he said, in an annoyed tone, "why cannot they be punctual?"

"What is it, sir?" Ralph asked.

"A note from the general, to say that the dispatches will not be
ready for an hour. That means an hour and a half; and by that time
it will be light enough to be seen, and we shall have to run the
gauntlet. However, I suppose it cannot be h