He wondered once more why they wore such an inharmonious and conspicuous uniform as blue frock coats and baggy red trousers.
He heard presently the martial sounds of the Marseillaise, and the regiment singing it passed very close to him.

The men were nearly all short, dark, and very young.

But the spring and fire with which they marched were magnificent.

As they thundered out the grand old tune their feet seemed scarcely to touch the earth, and fierce eyes glowed in dark faces.
John, with a start, recognized one, a petty officer, a sergeant it seemed, who marched beside the line.

He was the most eager of them all, and his face was tense and wrapt.