half past nine in the morning
`` H 'm ! I might have known it . It is just like that Fourtou , who always wants to make a display . '' At half past nine in the morning the procession approached the field of Plessis-Piquet in the following order : first came our carriage -- nobody in it but M. Gambetta and myself ; then a carriage containing M. Fourtou and his second ; then a carriage containing two poet-orators who did not believe in God , and these had MS. funeral orations projecting from their breast pockets ; then a carriage containing the head surgeons and their cases of instruments ; then eight private carriages containing consulting surgeons ; then a hack containing a coroner ; then the two hearses ; then a carriage containing the head undertakers ; then a train of assistants and mutes on foot ; and after these came plodding through the fog a long procession of camp followers , police , and citizens generally . It was a noble turnout , and would have made a fine display if we had had thinner weather . There was no conversation . I spoke several times to my principal , but I judge he was not aware of it , for he always referred to his note-book and muttered absently , `` I die that France might live . ''