Oh, that 31st of January, 1871! I was anæmic from the siege, undermined by grief, tortured with anxiety about my family, and I went out with Mme. Guérard and two friends toward the Parc Monceau. Suddenly one of my friends, M. De Plancy, turned pale as death. I looked to see what was the matter, and noticed a soldier passing by. He had no weapons. Two others passed and they, also, had no weapons. And they were so pale, too, these poor, disarmed soldiers, these humble heroes. There was such evident grief and hopelessness in their very gait; and their eyes, as they looked at us women, seemed to say: “It is not our fault!” It was all so pitiful, so touching I burst out sobbing, and went back home at once, for I did not want to meet any more disarmed French soldiers. CHAPTER XIII A WARTIME JOURNEY I decided to set off now as quickly as possible in search of my family. I asked Paul de Rémusat to get me an audience with M. Thiers, in order to obtain from him a passport for leaving Paris. I trusted Mme. Guérard and Mme. Lambquin with disbanding my _ambulance_. M. Thiers gave me the passport, and I was ready to go, but I could not start alone. I felt that the journey I was about to undertake was a very dangerous one, and M. Thiers and Paul de Rémusat had also warned me of this. I could see, therefore, that I should be very dependent on my traveling companion all the time, and on this account I decided not to take a servant with me, but a friend. I very naturally went at once to Mme. Guérard. Her husband, gentle though he was, refused absolutely to let her go with me, as he considered this expedition mad and dangerous. Mad it certainly was, and dangerous, too. I did not insist, but I sent for my son’s governess, Mlle. Soubise. I asked her whether she would go with me, and did not attempt to conceal from her any of the dangers of the journey. She jumped with joy, and said she would be ready within twelve hours. This girl is at present the wife of Commandant Monfils-Chesneau. And how strange life is, for she is now teaching the two daughters of my son, her former pupil. Mlle. Soubise was then very young, and she looked like a Creole. She had very beautiful, dark eyes, with a gentle, timid expression, and the voice of a child. Her head, however, was full of adventure, romance, and day dreams. In appearance we might both have been taken for quite young girls, for, although I was older than she was, my slenderness and my face made me look younger. It would have been absurd to try to take a trunk with us, so I took a bag for us both. We had only a change of linen and some stockings. I had my revolver, and I offered one to Mlle. Soubise, but she refused it with horror, and showed me an enormous pair of scissors in an enormous case. “But what are you going to do with them?” I asked. “I shall kill myself if we are attacked,” she replied.