“Let us defend the house!” exclaimed Felix, “we can kill more from the inside!” and the rest agreed.

The door of the house to which my comrade pointed had been smashed; the building itself contained no one but the dead.  We worked our way along, keeping the mob at bay with our swords, until we were all in shelter; then they came with a terrific rush, but the foremost were wounded or slain, and their bodies blocked the entrance.

“Drag the furniture into the passage!” cried Felix; but we had not the time.  Roused to desperation by their losses, the mob surged through the doorway, trampling upon their fallen comrades, screaming “Kill the Huguenots!” flinging themselves upon us with a fury we could not withstand.

Back we went to the foot of the stairs, where not more than two men could stand abreast; the passage was packed with a swaying, struggling mass that forced a way by its own weight.  “Kill!  Kill!” they screamed, and we answered with defiant shouts of “Coligny!  Coligny!  For the Admiral.”

They gained the lowest stair, and then another; it was evident we could not hold out much longer, but the knowledge had no effect on our courage.  As Felix said, we could die but once.  On the landing at the top of the stairs were two rooms, but our numbers were not strong enough to garrison them both.  There were only seven of us left, and not one unwounded.

“The end is close now,” cried my comrade, “but we will die hard for the honour of the Admiral.”

“Well said, Bellievre!” and once more the familiar battle-cry “Coligny!  Coligny!  For the Admiral!” rang out.

[Illustration:  “Coligny!  Coligny!  For the Admiral!”]

“Good-bye, Edmond.  I am glad Jeanne is safe.”  “Farewell, Felix.  Ah!” Our two comrades nearest the door were down, and the angry mob, lusting for blood, burst into the room.  We numbered five now, and a minute later four.

“For the Admiral!” cried Felix, running a man through the chest, but before he could withdraw his sword a violent blow from a club struck him to the ground.

We were three now, all faint, weary, and wounded.  We were entirely at the mercy of our assailants.  They leaped at us, brandishing their weapons, and yelling exultingly.

“Coligny!  Coligny” I shouted in defiance.  Crash!  I was down, and almost immediately afterwards the noise and the shouting died away.  I was dimly conscious of some one bending over me, and then knew no more.

I opened my eyes in a small room almost bare of furniture.  I was lying dressed, on a bed; my head was bandaged; every muscle of my body ached with pain.  Forgetting what had happened, I called for Jacques, and then for Felix, but by degrees the sickening events of the awful tragedy came back to my memory.

Getting down from the bed, I crossed the room slowly and cautiously, and tried the door; it was fastened from the outside.  I went back to the little window for the purpose of looking into the street.  It was crowded with people wearing white crosses in their hats and white bands round their arms.