All that was asked of the stranded Americans was to keep cool and, like true sports, suffer inconvenience.

Around them were the French and English, facing the greatest tragedy of centuries, and meeting it calmly and with noble self-sacrifice.

The men were marching to meet death, and in the streets, shops, and fields the women were taking up the burden the men had dropped.

And in the Rue Scribe and in Cockspur Street thousands of Americans were struggling in panic-stricken groups, bewailing the loss of a hat-box, and protesting at having to return home second-class.

Their suffering was something terrible.