The bearings of the remark did not strike me at the time, as a
cannon-ball from the direction of Versailles whirled within twenty feet
of the balloon and lifted the right flank (a military expression) of my
moustache into your subscriber's eye, notwithstanding it was waxed with
LOUVET'S best, warranted to keep each hair _en règle_, even in the worst
gales. From that moment I renounced LOUVET. Following the cannon-shot
came a miscellaneous assortment of small projectiles, which had the
effect of creating some excitement among the atmospheric _animalculae_,
but failed to disturb the serenity of M. GODARD or myself. When about
ten miles from Blois I detected what I supposed was a large vein of
chalk-pits. It was very white, and apparently motionless. My companion
expressed his surprise at the difficulty I had in distinguishing objects
correctly, and seemed to lose patience.

"_Bigarre_, you no know zat? It ees ze dirty Proosien linen vashed out,
and hoong zere to dry!"

I told him in Arabic that he needn't get his back up; but he understood
me not, and continued playing with the cats which we were transporting
to Tours to protect the Commissary stores from the ravages of the rats
that the Prussians had despatched to eat up the provisions of the
garrison. Towards night I began to have a queer sensation in the
stomach. It wasn't like sea-sickness, nor like the feeling produced by
swinging. If a man just recovering from the effects of his first cigar
were offered a bowl of hot goose-grease for supper, I suppose he would
have felt as I felt. At the moment a queer twinge took me; I ejaculated:
"Oh! Lord!"

"Vat ees de matter?" inquired GODARD. If the man had had any other
nationality, I might have talked sense to him; but he was a Frenchman,