t ensure my safe passage to England? If I am
killed the world shall ring with it. I shall myself make a formal
complaint to Lord Granville," said this incoherent and pompous donkey.
Exit man of position fuming; enter unprotected female. Of course she was
a widow, of course she had lost half-a-dozen sons, of course she kept
lodgings, and of course she wanted her "hambassader" generally to take
her under his wing. I left Wodehouse explaining to her that if she went
out of Paris even with a pass, she might or might not be shot according
to circumstances. I will say for him that I should not be as patient as
he is, were I worried and badgered by the hour by a crowd of shrieking
women and silly men.

4 P.M.

Fighting is going on all round Paris. There are crowds on the Boulevard;
every one is asking his neighbour for news. I went to one of the Mairies
to hear the bulletins read. The street was almost impassable. At last I
got near enough to hear an official read out a despatch--nothing
important. The commanders at Montrouge and Vincennes announce that the
Prussians are being driven back. "Et Clamart?" some one cries. "A bas
les alarmistes," is the reply. Every one is despondent. Soldiers have
come back from Meudon demoralised. We have lost a position, it is
whispered. I find a friend, upon whose testimony I can rely, who was
near Meudon until twelve o'clock. He tells me that the troops of the
line behaved badly. They threw away their muskets without firing a shot,
and there was a regular _sauve qui peut_. The Mobiles, on the other
hand, fought splendidly, and were holding the position when he left. I
am writing this in a cafe. It is full of Gardes Nationaux. They are
saying that if the troops of the line are not trustworthy, resistance is
hopeless. A Garde National gives the following explanation of the
demoralisation of the army. He says that the Imperial Government only
troubled itself about the corps d'elite; that the object in the line
regiments was to get substitutes as cheaply as possible; consequently,
they are filled with men physically and morally the scum of the nation.
Semaphore telegraphs have been put up on all the high public buildings.
There are also semaphores on the forts. I see that one opposite me is
exchanging signals. The crowd watch them as though by looking they would
discover what they mean. "A first success," says a National next to me,
"was absolutely necessary for us, in order to give us confide