In the evening I saw Madame, and told her that things were going badly
on the frontier; but I did not know that the Germans were, at the time
of speaking, actually on French territory, and that MacMahon had been
beaten at Metz.

"Get the women out of the country," said John Turner to me the next
morning, "and don't bother me."

I went back to the Hotel Clericy and there found Alphonse Giraud. He
was in the morning-room with the two ladies.

"I have come," he said, "to bid you all good-by, as I was just telling
these ladies.

"You remember," he went on, taking my hand and holding it in his
effusive French way--"you remember that I said I would buy myself a
commission? The good God has sent me one, but it is a rifle instead of
a sword."

"Alphonse has volunteered to fight as a common soldier!" cried
Lucille, her face glowing with excitement. "Is it not splendid? Ah, if
I were only a man!"

Madame looked gravely and almost apprehensively at her daughter. She
did not join in Giraud's proud laugh.

"There is bad news," she said, looking at my face. "What is it?"

"Yes, there is bad news, and it is said that Paris is to be placed
under martial law. You and Mademoiselle must leave."

Alphonse protested that it was only a temporary reverse, and that
General Frossard had but retreated in order to strike a harder blow.
He nodded and winked at me, but I ignored his signals; for I have
never held that women are dolls or children, that the truth must be
withheld from them because it is unpleasant.

So Alphonse Giraud departed to fight for his country. He was drafted
into a cavalry regiment, "together with some grooms and hostlers from
the stables of the Paris Omnibus Company," as he wrote to me later in
good spirits. He proved himself, moreover, a brave soldier as well as
a true and honest French gentleman.

Madame de Clericy and Lucille made preparations for an early
departure, but were averse to quitting Paris until such time as
necessity should drive them into retreat. I saw nothing of John Turner
at this time, but learnt from others that he was directing the course
of his great banking house with a steady hand and a clear head. I
wanted money, but did not go to him, knowing that he would require
explanations which I was in no wise prepared to give him. Instead I
telegraphed to my lawyer in London, who negotiated a loan for me,
mortgaging, so far as I could gather from his technical
communications, my reversion of