country's call and transformed themselves into soldiers were most
astonishing to him. This moral shock made his national faith begin to
revive. The great majority of Frenchmen were good after all; the nation
was as valiant as in former times. Forty-four years of suffering and
alarm had developed their old bravery. But the leaders? Where were they
going to get leaders to march to victory? . . .

Many others were asking themselves the same question. The silence of the
democratic government was keeping the country in complete ignorance of
their future commanders. Everybody saw the army increasing from hour to
hour: very few knew the generals. One name was beginning to be repeated
from mouth to mouth, "Joffre . . . Joffre." His first pictures made the
curious crowds struggle to get a glimpse of them. Desnoyers studied them
very carefully. "He looks like a very capable person." His methodical
instincts were gratified by the grave and confident look of the
general of the Republic. Suddenly he felt the great confidence that
efficient-looking bank directors always inspired in him. He could
entrust his interests to this gentleman, sure that he would not act
impulsively.

Finally, against his will, Desnoyers was drawn into the whirlpool of
enthusiasm and emotion. Like everyone around him, he lived minutes that
were hours, and hours that were years. Events kept on overlapping each
other; within a week the world seemed to have made up for its long
period of peace.

The old man fairly lived in the street, attracted by the spectacle
of the multitude of civilians saluting the multitude of uniformed men
departing for the seat of war.