hope of picking up some bits of news from the passing trains,
epitomizing on a small scale the breathless, shuddering alarm that
pervaded all France in the presence of invasion. And so it happened
that as the train thundered by, a fleeting vision of pandemonium, all
that the good burghers obtained in the way of intelligence was the
salutations of that cargo of food for powder as it hurried onward to
its destination, fast as steam could carry it. At a station where they
stopped, however, three well-dressed ladies, wealthy bourgeoises of
the town, who distributed cups of bouillon among the men, were
received with great respect. Some of the soldiers shed tears, and
kissed their hands as they thanked them.

But as soon as they were under way again the filthy songs and the wild
shouts began afresh, and so it went on until, a little while after
leaving Chaumont, they met another train that was conveying some
batteries of artillery to Metz. The locomotives slowed down and the
soldiers in the two trains fraternized with a frightful uproar. The
artillerymen were also apparently very drunk; they stood up in their
seats, and thrusting hands and arms out of the car-windows, gave this
cry with a vehemence that silenced every other sound:

"To the slaughter! to the slaughter! to the slaughter!"

It was as if a cold wind, a blast from the charnel-house, had swept
through the car. Amid the sudden silence that descended on them
Loubet's irreverent voice was heard, shouting:

"Not very cheerful companions, those fellows!"

"But they are right," rejoined Chouteau, as if addressing some