one, a medium-sized one, and a small
one. The large one was yellow, the medium one white, and the small one
striped yellow and red.

In the crowd it was whispered that Gambetta was going. Sure enough I saw
him in a group near the yellow balloon, wearing a heavy overcoat and a
sealskin cap. He seated himself upon a paving-stone and put on a pair of
high fur-lined boots. A leather bag was slung over his shoulder. He took
it off, entered the balloon, and a young man, the aeronaut, tied the bag
to the cordage above Gambetta's head.

It was half past 10. The weather was fine and sunshiny, with a light
southerly breeze. All at once the yellow balloon rose, with three men in
it, one of whom was Gambetta. Then the white balloon went up with three
men, one of whom waved a tricolour flag. Beneath Gambetta's balloon hung
a long tricolour streamer. "Long live the Republic!" shouted the crowd.

The two balloons went up for some distance, the white one going higher
than the yellow one, then they began to descend. Ballast was thrown
out, but they continued their downward flight. They disappeared behind
Montmartre hill. They must have landed on the Saint Denis plain. They
were too heavily weighted, or else the wind was not strong enough.

* * * * *

The departure took place after all, for the balloons went up again.

We paid a visit to Notre Dame, which has been admirably restored.

We also went to see the Tour Saint Jacques. While our carriage was
standing there one of the delegates of the other day (from the Eleventh
Arrondissement) came up and told me that the Eleventh Arrondissement had
come round to my views, concluded that I was right in insisting upon a
vote of the whole city upon a single list of candidates, begged me to
accept the nomination upon the conditions I had imposed, and wanted to
know what ought to be done should the Government refuse to permit an
election. Ought force be resorted to? I replied that a civil war would
help the foreign war that was being waged against us and deliver Paris
to the Prussians.

On the way home I bought some toys for my little ones--a zouave in a
sentry-box for Georges, and for Jeanne a doll that opens and shuts its
eyes.

October 8.--I have received a letter from M. L. Colet, of Vienna
(Austria), by way of Normandy. It is the first letter that has reached
me from the outside since Paris has been invested.

There has been no s