le. First came Gazan; his hat was tilted awry by the bumps of
his skull, and the vegetable green of the coat threw into relief the
earthy colour and scaly texture of his elephantine visage. At his side
was the grim tall Laniboire with purple apoplectic veins and a crooked
mouth. His uniform was covered by an overcoat whose insufficient length
left visible the end of his sword and the tails of the frock, and gave
him an appearance certainly much less dignified than that of the marshal
with his black rod, who walked before. Those that followed, such as
Astier-Rehu and Desminieres, were all embarrassed and uncomfortable,
all acknowledged by their apologetic and self-conscious bearing
the absurdity of their disguise, which, though it might pass in the
chastened light of their historic dome, seemed amid the real life of the
street not less laughable than a show of monkeys. 'I declare one would
like to throw some nuts to see if they would go after them on all
fours,' said Freydet's undesirable companion. But Freydet did not catch
the impertinent remark. He slipped away, mixed with the procession, and
entered the church between two files of soldiers with arms reversed. He
was in his heart profoundly glad that Loisillon was dead. He had never
seen or known him; he could not love him for his work's sake, as he had
done no work; and the only thing for which he could thank him was that
he had left his chair empty at such a convenient moment. But he was
impressed notwithstanding. The funeral pomp to which custom makes the
old Parisian indifferent, the long line of knapsacks, the muskets that
fell on the flags with a single blow (at the command of a boyish little
martinet, with a stock under-his chin, who was probably performing on
this occasion his first military duty), and, above all, the funeral
music and the muffled drums, filled him with respectful emotion: and
as always happened when he felt keenly, rimes began to rise. He had
actually got a good beginning, presenting a grand picture of the storm
and electric agitation and mental eclipse produced in the atmosphere
of a nation when one of its great men disappears. But he broke off his
thoughts to make room for Danjou, who, having arrived very late, pushed
on amid the looks and whispers of the ladies, gazing about him coldly
and haughtily and passing his hand over his head as he habitually does,
doubtless to ascertain the safety of his back hair.

'He did not recognise me,' thoug