It was this fourth man who bore, resting it against his hip and steadying it with his other hand, the flag. They came on, these four, heads high. And though they were haggard, and stained, and worn, the banner above them was unsullied and unsoiled....
As they came toward us, we could hear them singing, in cracked and hoarse voices. Singing those immortal words of Rouget de l’Isle....
When they came near our vidette, where he sat his horse so quietly, they halted. And I saw then that these men still wore the red trousers and the blue coats of their ancient uniforms, which they had preserved for this occasion through the years. And we were all very still as we listened so that we heard the vidette challenge, in a ringing voice:
“Qui vive?”
There was, for me, something splendidly symbolic in the scene. For to that challenge, those battered but unconquerable men gave answer with one voice, one word.
“Qui vive?” the vidette challenged.
And the four answered hoarsely: “France!”
THE RIGHT WHALE’S FLUKES
’Ware th’ sparm whale’s jaw, an’ th’ right whale’s flukes!
—Old Whaling Maxim.