ng fathers with these
prodigal sons of the Republic--possible information without the sign of
a grumble, and advising those who were still streaming in at the door to
come back towards five o'clock, when the line should have advanced a
little. It was then scarcely ten A. M.!

H. had finished in no time.

"All I've got to do is to go home and wait until I am called for," he
explained as we walked away at a brisk gait.

Like most country people when they come to town I had numerous errands
to do, so we set off towards the _Bazar de l'Hotel de Ville_, renowned
for its farming implements.

At the corner of the Rue des Archives we met Monsieur Gauthier on his
way to his Museum.

"_Grave--tre's grave--la situation, Monsieur_," was all he could say.

"What would you advise us to do?"

"Well, to speak plainly, I should advise you to shut up the chateau,
leave a guardian, and open your Paris apartment. You're in the east,
you know! I shall go down by the five train and bring back Elizabeth
and the children. I'd be easier in my mind if I knew they were in a big
city! I If you have to leave, Madame Huard would be better off here."

H. was very sober as we left Mr. Gauthier.

"Bah! Cheer up! I'm afraid our friend is an alarmist. You know he has
two young children!"

We entered the Bazar, which is the "biggest" of the big stores in Paris.
Every day in the week, and Sundays included, it is usually so crowded
with buyers and sellers that one has to elbow one's way, and literally
serve one's self. To our amazement it was empty--literally empty. Not
a single customer--not a single clerk to be seen. The long stretches of
floor and counters were vacant as though the store were closed. I
gasped a little in surprise and just as I did so a female voice from
behind a distant desk called out:

"What is your pleasure, Madame?"

I turned, and a little woman in black advanced towards me.

"Yes, I know the place looks queer, but you see all our clerks are young
men and everyone of them has been obliged to join his regiment since
closing time last evening!"

"Leave farming alone and come over to Conard's. He's bound to have some
news," said H. impatiently.

Conard's is a big publishing firm on the boulevard, renowned as a
meeting place for most of the well-known political men.

Conard greeted us in silence. He knew no more than we, and we fell to
talking of the latest events and trying to come to a conclusion. Then