Salut donc, ô Sarah! salut, ô Doña Sol!
Lorsque ton pied mignon vient fouler notre sol,
Te montrer de l’indifférence
Serait à notre sang nous-mêmes faire affront;
Car l’étoile qui luit la plus belle à ton front,
C’est encore celle de la France!
He read very well, it is true, but those lines, read with a temperature of twenty-two degrees of cold, to a poor woman dumfounded through listening to a frenzied “Marseillaise,” stunned by the mad hurrahs from ten thousand throats delirious with patriotic fervor, were more than my strength could bear, made me feel dizzy, and caused my head to reel.
I made superhuman efforts at resistance, but was overwhelmed with fatigue. Everything appeared to be turning round in a mad farandole. I felt myself raised from the ground and heard a voice which seemed to come from far away—“Make room for our French lady....” Then I heard nothing further and only recovered my senses in my room at the Hotel Windsor.
My sister Jeanne had become separated from me by the movement of the crowd. But the poet Fréchette, a French-Canadian, became her escort and brought her several minutes after, safe and sound, but trembling on my account, and this is what she told me—“Just imagine. When the crowd was pressing against you, seized with terror on seeing your head fall back with closed eyes on to Abbey’s shoulder, I shouted out ‘Help. My sister is being killed.’ I had become mad. A man of enormous size who had followed us for a long time worked his elbows and hips to make the enthusiastic but overwrought mob give way, with a quick movement placed himself before you, just in time to prevent you from falling. The man, whose face I could not see on account of its being hidden beneath a fur cap, the ear flaps of which covered almost his entire face, raised you up as though you had been a flower, and held forth to the crowd in English. I did not understand anything he said, but the Canadians were struck with it, for the pushing ceased, and the crowd separated into two compact files in order to let you pass through. I can assure you that it made me feel quite impressed to see you so slender, with your head back and the whole of your poor frame borne at arms’ length by that Hercules. I followed as fast as I could, but having caught my foot in the flounce of my skirt I had to stop for a second, and that second was enough to separate us completely.
“The crowd having closed up after your passage, formed an impenetrable barrier. I can assure you, dear sister, that I felt anything but at ease, and it was Mr. Fréchette who saved me.”