My heart was beating madly. I tried in vain to calm myself by the usual reflections. I could so well picture the alternative being laid before the governor of Paris. Either to reserve his army in view of the probable siege, or else to hurl it into the furnace down to the last battalion. It was a formidable initiative. The fate of the country in his hands! All my being was strained, almost to breaking point, towards the side of boldness. I would have given ten years of my life that this man's heart might be well tempered. I walked feverishly through the streets wherever chance led me, looking for someone to talk to. I met De Valpic, but he was exhausted and was going to rest. Guillaumin had been warned for orderly duty at the Town Hall. I went to see him, but did not get much out of him as he was absorbed in his duties. It was a sight to warm the heart, this string of inhabitants, coming, each one of them, to offer to have soldiers billeted on them. On leaving there, I went to have a look at my men who were cleaning themselves up and mending their clothes--a laudable care for their personal appearance, and a way of passing time. According to the general opinion, we should be there for some time. I continued my walk and extended its area. I came to a vague piece of ground bordered by a hedge. I distinguished the murmur of voices behind it, and caught sight of some uniforms. Someone exclaimed: "Take care!" I showed myself. Then they laughed. "Halloa! That you, Dreher?" Five or six of my comrades from the fifth battalion were seated there in a circle, Ladmiraut and Miquel among others; Fortin, too. I was delighted. It will be remembered that I had not seen him since the incident at the "Globe." I went and sat down beside him and began to talk to him in a cordial tone. Idiotic, the fuss that had been made! Did they still continue to worry him? "Not a bit." He spoke rather coldly. Miquel intervened. "Rather not! He's in my platoon. I let him off the troublesome fatigues." The conversation seemed to be hanging fire. I asked: "What were you talking about when I arrived?" "Oh, nothing much--nothing at all interesting. You got any news?" I was stupidly inspired to tell them of little Frémont's death. "Poor boy!" sighed Laraque. "Whose turn is it now?" Fortin remarked. Silence fell again. I said: "You don't seem very enthusiastic here." "Not much reason to be." "Oh, come!" Fortin gave a start, but his neighbour nudged him, saying: "That your opinion?" There were smiles. My reputation as a scoffer was indeed well established. Fortin, without addressing me in particular, murmured: "I wonder if there are still any optimists left?" "Of course," I said. "Myself for one." He gazed at me, refusing to take me seriously; then said, in a tired voice: