CHAPTER II.
_September 22nd._ I sent off a letter yesterday in a balloon; whether it reaches its destination, or is somewhere in the clouds, you will know before I do.
The difficulties of getting through the lines are very great, and will become greater every day.

The Post-office says that it tries to send letters through, but I understand that the authorities have little hope of succeeding.

Just now I saw drawn up in the courtyard of the Grand Hotel a travelling carriage, with hampers of provisions, luggage, and an English flag flying.

Into it stepped four Britons.

Their passports were vised, they said, by their Embassy, and they were starting for England _via_ Rouen.