s he could collect his thoughts became
assured that the enemy must be attacking the village. He therefore
concluded that the best thing was to lie still, which he did until the
fire ceased and he could hear the Prussians retreating. Then he had
crawled in until close to the line of outposts."

"I am heartily glad to see you back again," Pierre said, shaking him by
the hand. "It would always have been a subject of regret to me if the
expedition that I proposed had lost you your life. As to those who fell
in defence of the village I have no personal responsibility, but I
should certainly have felt that your death always lay at my door."

CHAPTER X.

Another month and a great change had come over Paris. The spirit of
empty gasconnade had been succeeded by one more befitting the time and
circumstances. As the hopes of assistance from without lessened, the
spirit of resistance grew stronger and firmer. There was no longer any
talk of sweeping the Prussians out of France, no longer was it an
article of faith that Paris would be saved; but the thought of surrender
was farther than ever from men's minds. Paris would resist to the last.
She would give time to France to reorganize herself, and would set such
an example of devotion and patience under suffering, that when at last
famine forced her to surrender, the world should at least say that Paris
had proved herself worthy of her reputation.

The defences had been strengthened to an enormous extent; the outlying
forts which, when the siege began, could have been carried without much
difficulty by a resolute attack, had now been rendered practically
impregnable, their approaches had been thickly mined, obstacles of all
sorts erected round them, and the casements, barracks, and magazines
protected by coverings of trunks of trees and so great a depth of earth
as to be able to defy the heaviest shell.

The walls of the _enciente_ had been repaired and greatly strengthened,
and covered by bastions and other works, so that even were one of the
forts taken the work of the enemy would but be begun. The theatres had
been closed from the first. The cafe's chantants, and the open-air
concerts had long since followed the example, partly because of the
increasing seriousness of the temper of the people, partly because of
the failure of the gas. The cafe's themselves were no longer crowded
until midnight; the dim lights of the lamps that had taken the place of
gas gave a sombre