ficers.
At the table on our right sat a young fellow whose military harnessings
were very new and very stiff, but in spite of the heat, a high collar
and all his trappings he managed to put away a very comfortable repast.

On our left was a party composed of a captain, his wife and two other
_freres d'armes_. That brave little Parisian woman at once won my
admiration, for though, in spite of superhuman efforts, the tears would
trickle down her face, she never gave in one second to her emotion but
played her part as hostess, trying her best to put her guests at ease
and smilingly inquiring after their family and friends as though she
were receiving under ordinary circumstances in her own home.

At a quarter before noon we left them and elbowed our way through the
ever-gathering crowd towards our train.

"The twelve o'clock express--what platform?" H. inquired.

"The ten o'clock train hasn't gone yet, Monsieur!"

"Is there any danger of its _not_ going?"

"Oh, no; but there's every danger of its being the last."

And the man spoke the truth, for as our friend the politician predicted,
at noon military authority took over the station and all those who were
so unfortunate as to have been left behind were obliged to wait in Paris
three mortal weeks. On the Eastern Railway all passenger service was
immediately sacrificed to the transportation of troops.

It seems to me that this was the longest train I have ever seen. The
coaches stretched far out beyond the station into torrid sunlight. Every
carriage was filled up to and beyond its normal capacity. There could
be no question of what class one would travel--it was travel where one
could! Yet no one seemed to mind. I managed to find a seat in it
compartment already occupied by two young St. Cyr students in full
uniform and white gloves, a very portly aged couple and half a dozen men
of the working classes.

"We'll take turns at sitting, Monsieur," said one of them as H. pushed
further on into the corridor.

At the end of five minutes' time the conversation had become general.
Although as yet there had been no official declaration everyone present
was convinced that the news would shortly be made public, and though the
crowd was certainly not a merry one, it was certainly not sad. Most of
the men had received their orders in the morning, and had said good-bye
to their loved ones at home. In consequence, there were no
heart-rending scenes of farewell, no tear