gratefulness for the sweet memories that now were being lost in the
mystery of the sea and the night. "Adieu, Frau Rath!"

The distance between the departing transatlantic and the lighters was
widening. As though it had been awaiting this moment with impunity, a
stentorian voice on the upper deck shouted with a noisy guffaw, "See you
later! Soon we shall meet you in Paris!" And the marine band, the very
same band that three days before had astonished Desnoyers with its
unexpected Marseillaise, burst forth into a military march of the time
of Frederick the Great--a march of grenadiers with an accompaniment of
trumpets.

That had been the night before. Although twenty-four hours had not yet
passed by, Desnoyers was already considering it as a distant event of
shadowy reality. His thoughts, always disposed to take the opposite
side, did not share in the general alarm. The insolence of the
Counsellor now appeared to him but the boastings of a burgher turned
into a soldier. The disquietude of the people of Paris, was but the
nervous agitation of a city which lived placidly and became alarmed at
the first hint of danger to its comfort. So many times they had spoken
of an immediate war, always settling things peacefully at the last
moment! . . . Furthermore he did not want war to come because it would
upset all his plans for the future; and the man accepted as logical
and reasonable everything that suited his selfishness, placing it above
reality.

"No, there will not be war," he repeated as he continued pacing up and
down the garden. "These people are beside themselves. How could a war
possibly break out in these days?" . . .