I have said that we stopped for a moment at Troyes where we turned off on to the main line, Belfort-Paris. We soon saw the effect of it in the change of speed. Two of our gay spirits again took advantage of a halt, to rag in the fields. The train started off at full speed without whistling. We did not see them again until two days later. * * * * * We arrived at Pantin at night. The men's persistent gaiety made me singularly cross, and I was much relieved when the captain lost his temper and exacted silence. We detrained in pitch darkness. All the lamps in the station had been put out for fear of Taubes and Zeppelins. I longed and feared to learn what turn things had taken. I questioned a foreman who confided in me: "You're lucky, you're the last to arrive! To-morrow the system won't be working. It's already cut at Meaux." They hurried us along the platform, weighed down like human live-stock. On leaving the station we turned into an unlighted avenue, and marched for half an hour or fifty minutes. The men demanded a halt. Everyone was so firmly convinced that we were being brought back to rest here. We would have given anything to lie down, if only on bad straw. Our backs were sore all over from those seventy-six hours in the train. The streets were deserted. At long intervals there was a sentry, or patrol-party. We went on, half dozing. With my head nodding, I urged myself on to certain arguments, which were comparatively reassuring. Don't throw the helve after the hatchet. A besieged town is not a captured town. Paris, in 1870, had held out for more than four months. The defensive works in those days did not approach those of to-day. Henriot was walking beside me. I unbared my thoughts to him. He retorted: "Oh rot! They'll get in as easy as look at it!" "Do you really know anything definite about it?" I asked, a little nonplussed. "I know as much as everyone else! Nothing's ready. The forts in the west are not worth a pin. They won't hold out any more than those at Namur!" He added: "And then you know, when we no longer think of anything but defending ourselves...!" There were two lanterns in the middle of the road, and forms coming and going. It was an intrenching party--some Zouaves digging a piece of trench, and a machine-gun was pointed there. Judsi turned round. "A bit beforehand, ain't they?" Their zeal was rather overdone! That was the general impression. I, on the contrary, felt that it might come in useful no later than to-morrow. I repeated to myself Henriot's half-finished remark, "When we no longer think of anything but defending ourselves...!" And I followed the thought to its conclusion. I remembered the teaching of my military education, a certain crude phrase in the regulations, "A passive defensive is doomed to certain defeat!"