where I stood nothing could be seen save the heads of the populace; but the surging of the crowd backward and forward showed how the fight progressed.

Clang! clang! pealed the great bell, swinging high in the air, while below the whirr and rattle of musketry mingled with the frantic shouts of the people.

A louder yell than usual proclaimed that something decisive had occurred, and soon the news spread to the very outermost of the packed onlookers.

"Now they have them! Into the church! Follow them up! Well done, brave Nationals! Well done, students! Now we'll see who's to be master!"

It was even so. The gallant band, overwhelmed by numbers, had fallen back foot by foot, until the insurgents by one wild rush had forced them into the cathedral, where their leader was slain on the high altar itself.

All this I learned only from the conversation of the people, being unable to see anything for myself.

But from what happened next I might easily have known the end had come.

From the middle of the throng a cry rose, and the multitude in their thousands took it up, shouting wildly, "Latour! Death to Latour!"

This way and that they rushed, some to the south, some to the north of the Place, seeking any outlet which would lead them to the hôtel of the minister of war.

In an instant I was caught up and hurried off out of the Place, across a wide street, then into a network of narrow ones, until I was stopped with the rest in front of the hôtel where lived Count Latour.

Was he still there? There had been ample time for escape, and I hoped against hope that he had taken advantage of it; but, remembering the calm, proud face of the man, I had my doubts.

The gates were closed; the soldiers, scanty in numbers but well disciplined, stood at their posts, eyeing the frenzied mob with contempt.

Some of the students at once opened fire; the soldiers replied, and, the target being so broad, every bullet lodged somewhere.

Inside the building Count Latour was holding a council of war, and the members, fearful lest in the growing excitement the monarchy itself should be swept away, prevailed on him to issue the order to cease firing.

This of course paralyzed the action of the loyal troops, both at the hôtel and at the barracks, while the spirits of the rebels were proportionately raised.

From the conversation of those near me, I gathered that their surprise was equal to their delight, but they gave no thought to the humanity of those in power.

The fearful cry, "Death to Latour!" was again raised. The gates were threatened. The soldiers, prevented from firing by the order of the council, were unable to act. Fresh bodies of rioters came swarming from various directions. The pressure grew terrible; the gates--I suppose, as I could see nothing--gave way; the courtyard was filled with the noisy, shouting, bloodthirsty pack; the doors of the great building were smashed like glass; and the crowd, screaming and struggling, surged up the broad staircase.

At the first rush some were thrown violently against the outer walls; others, by no power of their own, were carried into the interior of the building, and fate so willed that I belonged to the latter portion. The name of the gallant old count was on the lips of every one, as if he were responsible for all the ills in the world, so easy is it to inflame the passions of a mob which does not think for itself.

It was on the first landing that we received a slight check.

A few National Guards, still loyal to their pledges, attempted to stem the human torrent. Their success was only momentary, and they were borne back, but not dispersed.

Here the crowd broke up, some running one way, some another, but all intent on killing Count Latour.

I followed the Nationals, thinking they would most likely retire in the direction of the council chamber.

This they did, and that apartment was speedily filled. I caught a glimpse of Latour, round whom the handful of loyalists pressed. His face was pale; otherwise he showed no sign of fear, but gazed calmly on the throng of butchers. Once he made an attempt to speak, but his words were drowned in the tumult.

"Kill Latour!" was the savage cry. Beyond that one scarcely heard anything.

However, the brave Nationals resolved to make a fight of it, and by a stroke of great good fortune I managed to join them.

"Long live Latour! Long live the gallant count!" I cried, with all the strength of my lungs, and his defenders echoed the cry.

But the others drowned our shouts with "Kill Latour!" and one man, towering above the rest, sprang at the count with uplifted axe.

It was the burly ruffian who had walked with us a short time in the morning, and at sight of me his face grew black as a thunder-cloud.

"Traitor!" he shouted, and, swinging round, aimed his axe full at my head.

There was little time for action, much less for thought; but, having my pistol free, I levelled it swiftly, and shot the truculent bully dead.

The count threw me a glance of gratitude mingled with pity; and in truth it appeared as if I needed the latter.

The insurgents rushed at us, bore us back, flung themselves into our midst, and, acting like wedges, split us into small groups.

I found myself in front of Latour, where the fighting was fiercest, and emptied my pistol recklessly into the crowd.

The bullets cleared a space, but it was soon reoccupied. Most of the loyalists were overpowered and disarmed, and now their opponents came to help seize Latour.

Planting my feet firmly on the ground, I stood by the side of the veteran, and did my best to save him.

The attempt failed; it was hopeless from the start, and the end came very suddenly.

There were scarcely half a dozen of us all told, standing shoulder to shoulder, to stay the rush, and we toppled over like so many wooden pegs.

I lay on the floor half stunned, with the body of a man right across my chest. He was badly hurt, and kept moaning feebly.

For several minutes I was unable to rise, or even to move, and during that time the noise of the fighting grew less and less distinct, finally dying away altogether.

The shouts of the populace, however, continued to ascend from the courtyard, and could be plainly heard through the open windows.

As soon as I had recovered a little strength, I shifted the wounded man gently, and stood up.

The rioters had left the apartment; only the dead and those seriously injured remained, and amongst these I looked in vain for Latour.

Had they spared his life? The idea seemed too good for truth, but it was just possible.

Picking up an abandoned sword, I made my way from the chamber to the staircase. Several bodies lay where they had fallen; otherwise the place was empty.