service, but deep silence prevailed. In the great spaces of the temple
the robed priests bowed before the altar and noiseless groups of
worshippers knelt on the pavement. It was a time for earnest prayers.
The Louvre was still open and I was fortunate enough to see the Venus
of Milo, though a day or two after I believe it was taken from its
pedestal and carefully concealed. The expectation was of something
dreadful and still the city did not take in the sorrow which lay
before it. "Do you think the Prussians will bombard Paris?" I heard
a man exclaim, his voice and manner indicating that such a thing was
incredible, but the Prussian cannon were close at hand. For our part,
my companion and I thought we were in no especial danger. We quartered
ourselves comfortably at a pension, walked freely about the streets,
and saw what could be seen with the usual zest of healthy young
travellers. The little steamboats were still plying on the Seine and
we took one at last for the trip that opens to one so much that is
beautiful and interesting in architecture and history. It was a lovely
afternoon even for summer and we passed in and out under the superb
arches of the bridges, beholding the noble apse of Notre Dame with the
twin towers rising beyond, structures associated with grim events
of the Revolution, the masonry of the quays and the master work of
Haussmann who was then putting a new face upon the old city. Now all
was bright and no thought of danger entered our minds as we revelled
in the pleasures of such an excursion. At length as we stood on the
deck we became aware that we were undergoing careful scrutiny
from a considerable group who for the most part made up our
fellow-passengers. We had had no thought of ourselves as especially
marked. My clothes, however, had been made in Germany and had
peculiarities no doubt which indicated as much. I was fairly well
grounded in French but had no practice in speaking. In trying to talk
French, my tongue in spite of me ran into German, which I had been