It is just like that Fourtou, who always wants to make a display." At half past nine in the morning the procession approached the field of Plessis-Piquet in the following order: first came our carriage--nobody in it but M.Gambetta and myself; then a carriage containing M.Fourtou and his second; then a carriage containing two poet-orators who did not believe in God, and these had MS.

funeral orations projecting from their breast pockets; then a carriage containing the head surgeons and their cases of instruments; then eight private carriages containing consulting surgeons; then a hack containing a coroner; then the two hearses; then a carriage containing the head undertakers; then a train of assistants and mutes on foot; and after these came plodding through the fog a long procession of camp followers, police, and citizens generally.

It was a noble turnout, and would have made a fine display if we had had thinner weather.
There was no conversation.

I spoke several times to my principal, but I judge he was not aware of it, for he always referred to his note-book and muttered absently, "I die that France might live." Arrived on the field, my fellow-second and I paced off the thirty-five yards, and then drew lots for choice of position.

This latter was but an ornamental ceremony, for all the choices were alike in such weather.
These preliminaries being ended, I went to my principal and asked him if he was ready.