The road from St. Etienne to Bois-Monzil, exhibited a scene of the most animated kind.  In the midst of the motley and moving multitude, the National Guards were seen hurrying to and fro; chasseurs, grenadiers, cavalry and artillery-men, all clothed in their rich new costume, as on a field day.  Some of the crowd were singing a la Parisienne, others were lamenting, praying, hoping, despairing, and, by “fits and starts,” abandoning themselves to those opposite extravagances of sentiment so peculiarly characteristic of a French population.  When night drew her sable curtains around, the picturesque of the scene was still more heightened.  Fresh bands of miners, conducted by their respective chiefs, coming in from every side; their sooty visages lighted up by glaring torches; National Guards arriving from different parts of the country, to join their comrades of St. Etienne; farmers and peasants, on horseback and afoot, hastening to offer their humane aid; sentinels posted—­muskets piled—­watch-fires blazing, and, in short, the tout ensemble rendered the approaches of Bois-Monzil like a bivouac on the eve of an expected battle; happily, however, the object of these brave men was to preserve life and not to destroy it.

On Saturday, the chaine a bras was discontinued, as the engineers had brought the pumps effectually to work.  Suddenly a cry of joy was echoed from mouth to mouth, “They are saved! they are saved! six of them are freed from their subterraneous prison!” shouted a person at the entrance of the mine.  The rumor was instantly repeated along the crowd, and a horseman set off at full speed for St. Etienne, with the gratifying news; another followed, and confirmed the report of his predecessor.  The whole town was in motion, and all classes seemed to partake of the general joy, with a feeling as if each had been individually interested.  In the exuberance of their delight they were already deliberating on the subject of a fete, to celebrate the happy event, when a third horsemen arrived.  The multitude thronged round him, expecting a more ample confirmation of the welcome tidings.  But their joy was soon turned to sorrow, when they were informed that nothing had yet been discovered, save the dead bodies of two unfortunate men, who, together had left eleven children to lament their untimely fate.

On Sunday, the workmen continued their labor with equal zeal and uncertainty as before.  A sort of inquietude and hopelessness, however, occasionally pervaded their minds, which may be easily accounted for, from the hitherto fruitless result of their fatiguing researches.  Discussions now took place on what was to be done; differences of opinion arose on the various plans proposed, and, in the meantime, the sounds of the hapless victims from the recesses of the rocky cavern continued to be distinctly audible.  Every moment the embarrassment and difficulties of the workmen increased.  The flinty rock seemed to grow more impenetrable; their tools either broke, or became so fixed in the stone, that it was frequently impossible to regain them.  The water filtered from all parts, through the narrow gallery they were perforating, and they even began to apprehend another irruption.