They had scarce got through the mob when the cavalry, advancing, were met by a shower of stones.

“The captain is hit,” says Calvert, still looking out of the coach-window.  Pale with fear, Adrienne laid her hand on his arm and Calvert covered it with one of his.  In a few minutes they were out of sight of the fray and, driving as rapidly as possible up the Champs Elysees, were soon at the door of the Legation.

Mr. Jefferson was not at home, but in a few moments he came in with the account of having been stopped also at the Place Louis Quinze as he returned from a visit to Monsieur de Lafayette and a confirmation of the news regarding Necker’s dismissal.

“It is sufficiently clear with what indignation the people regard the presence of troops in the city,” he said, “and by to-morrow they will make known, I have no doubt, their equally bitter indignation at the removal of Necker.  Affairs are coming rapidly to a crisis; the Palais Royal is this evening in a state of the wildest agitation, so d’Azay has just told me, and, indeed, the city is not safe, even on the boulevards.  I shall take you back, Madame,” he went on, turning to Adrienne.  “I believe the carriage of the American Minister will be treated with respect even by this insane mob.”

“A thousand thanks, Monsieur,” said Madame de St. Andre, rising, “and, as it is late, perhaps we had better go at once, although I hate to take you away from Monsieur Morris and Monsieur Calvert.”

“Oh, as for me, I am off to the Club to hear further details of the riot and afterward to a supper with Madame de Flahaut.  And as for Ned, I am sure he would rather a thousand times escort you back to the rue St. Honore than to sit here chatting with an old fellow like myself,” said Mr. Morris, and he went off limping and laughing, leaving the others to follow quickly.  For, in truth, it was late, and the disturbance seemed to be increasing instead of decreasing as the night wore on.  Mr. Jefferson and Calvert turned into the Palais Royal on their way back, after leaving Adrienne safe in the rue St. Honore, and found it a seething mass of revolutionary humanity, as d’Azay had reported.  The agitation increased all during the following day of the 13th, and on the 14th was struck the first great blow which resounded throughout France.  Mr. Jefferson and Calvert, who, unconscious of the disturbance in the distant quarter of the Bastille, were calling at the hotel of Monsieur de Corny, had the particulars from that gentleman himself.  He came in hurriedly, pale with emotion and fear and haggard with anxiety.

“Tis all over,” he says to Mr. Jefferson when he could speak.  “How it has happened God only knows.  A fearful crime has been committed.  The deputation, of which I was one, advanced, under a flag of truce, to have speech with de Launay, Governor of the Bastile, when a discharge killed several men standing near us.  We retired, and instantly the great throng of people—­there were, God knows, how many thousand wretches waiting there—­rushed forward, and are even now in possession of that impregnable fortification.  ’Tis incredible how ’twas done.”