my window, I heard bloodcurdling imprecations, mixed with cries of “Long live the king!” going on.  Not being able to remain any longer in this uncertainty, I woke a captain who lived in the same house.  He rose, took his arms, and we went out together, directing our course towards the point whence the shouts seemed to come.  The moon shone so bright that we could see everything almost as distinctly as in broad daylight.

A concourse of people was hurrying towards the Cours yelling like madmen; the greater number of them, half naked, armed with muskets, swords, knives, and clubs, and swearing to exterminate everything, waved their weapons above the heads of men who had evidently been torn from their houses and brought to the square to be put to death.  The rest of the crowd had, like ourselves, been drawn thither by curiosity, and were asking what was going on.  “Murder is abroad,” was the answer; “several people have been killed in the environs, and the patrol has been fired on.”  While this questioning was going on the noise continued to increase.  As I had really no business to be on a spot where such things were going on, and feeling that my place was at my wife’s side, to reassure her for the present and to watch over her should the rioters come our way, I said good-bye to the captain, who went on to the barracks, and took the road back to the suburb in which I lived.

I was not more than fifty steps from our house when I heard loud talking behind me, and, turning, saw gun barrels glittering in the moonlight.  As the speakers seemed to be rapidly approaching me, I kept close in the shadow of the houses till I reached my own door, which I laid softly to behind me, leaving myself a chink by which I could peep out and watch the movements of the group which was drawing near.  Suddenly I felt something touch my hand; it was a great Corsican dog, which was turned loose at night, and was so fierce that it was a great protection to our house.  I felt glad to have it at my side, for in case of a struggle it would be no despicable ally.

Those approaching turned out to be three armed men leading a fourth, disarmed and a prisoner.  They all stopped just opposite my door, which I gently closed and locked, but as I still wished to see what they were about, I slipped into the garden, which lay towards the street, still followed by my dog.  Contrary to his habit, and as if he understood the danger, he gave a low whine instead of his usual savage growl.  I climbed into a fig tree the branches of which overhung the street, and, hidden by the leaves, and resting my hands on the top of the wall, I leaned far enough forward to see what the men were about.