"The _poilus_ will roll off into the scenery when they go to sleep." This prospect was disquieting. I said no more, but let them do as they liked. A minute afterwards I complained of the stuffiness. "Why not have the ventilator opened?" Guillaumin suggested. "What ventilator?" He was obliging enough to get up and feel about to find the bolt. The shutter slid along in the groove. A scrap of sky showed through, and some fleecy clouds shining in the moonlight. I announced that I should like to spend my night at the window. "Are you quite off your chump? Try to have a snooze!" "I'm not sleepy." I groped along avoiding the slumberers and reached the seat near the wall. I succeeded in pulling myself up, and leaning my elbows on the opening, I breathed in the delicious night air. Our convoy was crawling along at a monotonous pace, through the darkness. It seemed of an immoderate length, dark from end to end, except in the centre, where the light from the officer's saloon shone on the ballast. By leaning out while we went round the curves I could make out the fire in the engine, a curtain of purple, with fantastic shadows moving against it. Our whistle often blew, and others answered stridently from the distance. The regular clank of the wheels on the rails was audible, and a minute red dot could sometimes be seen at the end of a straight piece of line--the tail light of the train ahead of us. There were thousands of fleecy clouds scattered over the sky, all lit up on the same side by the pale rays of the moon. We were leaving the Vallée de la Bièvre. The surrounding country was growing flat. A far-spreading horizon soon became visible beyond the open fields. Then the radiance of Paris rose into sight. It was impossible to mistake it for the translucent band of a mysterious, tender blue which still lingered in the west. It resembled rather the afterglow of a sunrise or of a huge fire. The silhouettes of houses and trees stood out in the foreground like Chinese shadows against the glowing distance. The City of Light! I revelled in the vision and the symbol, both equally imposing. What a part this city had played in history! How feverishly she throbbed to-day. I blamed myself for having failed to take advantage of the magnificent opportunity which had been within my reach the other day. Ought I not, with more fellow-feeling and enthusiasm, to have mixed with the crowd, and roamed day and night in search of the secret of Paris, which was also the secret of France! I remembered the boulevards brilliant in their multi-coloured lights, the crowd crushing against the windows of the big daily papers.... Fresh news would be appearing on the tapes at this hour. What would it be? We had not been able to get a paper all day, but a persistent rumour had reached us: "Mulhouse!" ...