AMAZING ESCAPE OF THE FRENCH PRESIDENT.

FALL FROM A TRAIN.

ONLY SLIGHT INJURIES.

From Our Own Correspondent. Paris, Monday Night. The President of the French Republic has had a most amazing escape. Last night, when on his way to perform an official ceremony, he fell out of the window of his special train, when it was travelling at a speed of about 25 miles an hour, but was fortunately so slightly injured as to be able to pick himself up and walk to the nearest level-crossing. The history of this extraordinary accident, which by the greatest good fortune is stated to have resulted in only comparatively slight injuries, is as follows:

At 9.20 yesterday evening the President, together with the: Minister of the Interior and a number of other official personages, left the Gare de Lyon for Montbrison, where he was to unveil a statue of the late M. Emile Reymond, a remarkable man, who, although a Senator and a doctor, and nearly 50 years of age, served at the beginning of the war as a flying officer, and was killed in October, 1914. Soon after the start he went to bed in his sleeping compartment, of which, although the night was very hot, the windows had been closed. At about a quarter to twelve, shortly before reaching Montargis, about 70 miles from Paris, he seems to have felt unwell. M. Deschanel got up to open the window, which in the Presidential tram is very low from the ground. As he did so he was seized with dizziness and fell out, fortunately not on to the adjoining line, but on to the embankment. By a happy coincidence, at the moment the accident took place the train had slowed before reaching some points. Also the ballast on the spot where he fell was comparatively soft and sandy.

PRESIDENT AND RAILWAYMAN.

Although shaken and bruised, M. Deschanel was able to collect himself after a short time, and, walking along the permanent way, reached a level crossing, with its house, where the guardian lives. According to one account, he was helped on his way by a platelayer. The President was in his pyjamas, and the astonishment of the man can be imagined when a stranger thus attired knocked him up in the middle of the night and said. “You will be surprised, but I am Paul Deschanel, President of the Republic. I fainted and fell from my train.” The railwayman believed at first that he was face to face with someone who had lost his senses, but he telephoned to Montargis, whence subsequently the Sous-prefet came in his motor-car and took M. Deschanel home with him. As the President had been considerably scratched, Dr. Rogier, who attended him, injected anti-tetanic serum. Mme. Deschanel and her son, and M. Millerand, arrived at Montargis soon after two o’clock this afternoon. The bulletin issued at midday is as follows:

“The President of the Republic is slightly injured in the face and the left leg. His condition is as satisfactory as possible, and there are no grounds for anxiety.”

A DISAGREEABLE SURPRISE.

While the President was experiencing these untoward adventures his special train continued to steam on unconcernedly through the night. A little before five o’clock a railway official at St. Germain des Fosses had received a message stating that a man who declared he had fallen from the Presidential train had been found on the line. But as M. Deschanel’s compartment was not investigated, since he had given orders that he was not to be awakened before seven, it was concluded that there must be a mistake. Accordingly it was not until between seven and eight o’clock, after the train’s arrival at Roanne, that the truth was realised, the valet having found the compartment empty. The stupefaction and alarm of the Minister of the Interior and others can be imagined.

M. MILLERAND’S STATEMENT.

PARIS, Monday Night.

M. Millerand received the representatives of the Press in his study soon after his return from Montargis. Still visibly moved at the thought of the danger from which the President had escaped so miraculously, the Premier thus described to them the accident as he had heard the story from the President’s own lips:

The President left Paris on Sunday evening. He had been talking very cheerfully with MM. Steeg and Flandin, to whom he said “Good night” at ten o’clock. These gentlemen pointed out to the President that the temperature was very high in his saloon, but M. Deschanel, who is very susceptible to cold, insisted on keeping the window shut.

A little more than an hour afterwards, the President woke up, and feeling unwell owing to the heat, he wanted to let the window down. The window was difficult to open, and the President tugged at it with all his might. It came down suddenly, and M. Deschanel was thrown outside, as the windows of the carriage had no bars. By good fortune President Deschanel was thrown on to a grass embankment. A man employed on the line discovered President Deschanel and took him to the nearest railwayman’s lodge, where the President, still dazed, went to sleep until the arrival of the Subprefect of Montargis, who had him conveyed to his home. “I have seen M. Deschanel this afternoon,” continued M. Millerand. “We had a long interview before his departure in a motor with Madame Deschanel and his son. I saw him again since his arrival at the Elysée. The President of the Republic this evening is as well as you and I. His doctors have not discovered any lesion. They report, however, that he is suffering from slight bruises, but his blood-pressure is normal. It is truly a wonderful piece of good luck that President Deschanel has escaped from this accident, and everyone in France will rejoice. The Cabinet meeting which was fixed for to-morrow will take place. Nevertheless, after such a shock, I have advised M. Deschanel to rest at Rambouiilet.”