they were making to serve as loopholes, the joists they were putting
across the gates, and the paving stones with which the entrances were
being barricaded. This crowd did not want to believe in the proximity
of the enemy. Or, if it believed it, it didn't want to admit that
there was danger. Or, if it admitted that there was danger, it wanted
to share in it. Above everything it wanted to see; it wanted to see!

The last night in August I had a hard time freeing the approaches of
the gate I was guarding. There were only women, but there were
thousands of them and neither prayer nor argument could persuade them
to make up their minds to go home.

"Nothing will happen," I told them. "Look here now, be reasonable and
go home to bed."

"But we want to see...."

"What do you want to see?"

"Want to see what kind of a reception the Prussians will get if they
come."

Aside from this the mob was remarkably easy to get on with. A strict
order had forbidden that anyone be permitted to enter or leave Paris
until sunrise. As a result the capital found itself cut off from the
suburbs, and lots of little working girls, who came in for the day
from Clichy or Levallois-Perret, couldn't get back to their homes in
the evening. They had to camp out under the stars.

"It's very amusing," they said, "here we are just like soldiers."