They heard the continuous sound of marching troops and people were still departing through the streets toward the country or the provincial cities.

The flight went on by night as well as day, and John again felt the overwhelming pity of it.
He wondered what the French generals and their English allies would do?
Did they have any possible way of averting this terrible crisis?
They had met nothing but defeat, and the vast German army had crashed, unchecked, through everything from the border almost to the suburbs of Paris.
They stood in the Place Valhubert at the entrance to the Pont d'Austerlitz, and watched a regiment crossing the river, the long blue coats and red trousers of the men outlined against the white body of the bridge.

The soldiers were short, they looked little to John, but they were broad of chest and they marched splendidly with a powerful swinging stride.
"From the Midi," said Lannes.

"Look how dark they are! France is called a Latin nation, but I doubt whether the term is correct.

These men of the Midi though are the real Latins.