Part,  Chapter

 1     I,       I|     the year 1876 when, on my road to Paris, I boarded the
 2     I,       I|    last I could sleep. On the road I am like a miller in his
 3     I,       I|    serpentine windings of the road. I looked at the milky mist
 4     I,     III|    together by such a fearful road, into the mouth of hell
 5     I,      VI| either. I'll show you by what road I have reached it, as a
 6     I,    VIII| afraid, dear father, that the road which you have pursued will
 7     I,      IX|       the old, long-travelled road, and then I may hope to
 8    II,      XI|       annoyances which on the road through Germany were thrown
 9    II,    XIII|     MacMahon cut off from the road to Paris.~ ~In every battle
10    II,    XIII|       was seen far off on the road every man took to his heels.
11    II,    XVII|       to your aid. Still, the road is open to you, and I will