ad nothing to sell. I remember being in
the Rue Lafayette one morning, near one of those shops, when I saw the
whole of the crowd, that had been waiting there for hours probably, turn
away disappointed. The assistant had just told them that "this morning
we have nothing to sell but preserved truffles."

[Footnote 87: Five hundred French grammes make seventeen ounces
English, and a fraction.--EDITOR.]

At the same time, I am bound to note the fact that, at the slightest
rumours of peace, the usually empty windows became filled with
artistically arranged pyramids of "canned" provisions, at prices
considerably below those charged twenty-four hours before, and even
below those mentioned in the municipal tariff. Frequent attempts were
made by the police to discover the hiding-places for this stock, but
they failed in every instance. Those hiding-places were far away from
the shops, and the shopkeepers themselves were too wary to be caught
napping. A stranger might have safely gone in and offered a hundred
francs for half a dozen tins of their wares. They would have looked a
perfect blank, and told him they had none to sell: and no wonder; their
detection would have meant certain death; no earthly power could have
saved them from the legitimate fury of the populace. And even those who
bought the hidden food at abnormal prices were compelled to preserve
silence, at the risk of seeing their supplies cut off. One thing is
certain, and I can unhesitatingly vouch for it. My name had become known
in connection with several committees for the relief of the poor. On the
25th of January, at 11 a.m., when the negotiations between Bismarck and
M. Jules Favre could have been but in the preliminary stage, I received
a note, brought by hand, from a grocer in the Faubourg Montmartre,
asking me to call personally, as he had something to communicate which
might be to the advantage of my proteges. An hour later, I was at his
establishment, and he offered to sell me five hundred tins of various
provisions and two hundred and fifty boxes of sardines at two francs
each. It was something like double the ordinary price. A little more
than three weeks before that date, I had sent a letter to the same man,
asking him for a similar quantity of goods, which I intended to
distribute as New Year's gifts. The reply was, that he had none, but
that he might _possibly_ procure them at the rate of five francs a tin
and box. I found out afte