“Never!” said both of the ladies at once.

“It is a very grand sight, I assure you.  Fancy, ladies, a legion of demons galloping along upon their horses, thrusting to the right and left with long pikes, whose steel points are eighteen inches long.  That is a charge of lancers.  I beg you to believe that I had shown before this the mettle there was in me, but I will not conceal from you that at this moment I shared with the crowd the impression which the coming of these gentlemen made.  I had only time to jump over the sidewalk and to dart up a staircase which ran on the outside of a house, every door being closed.  I never shall forget the face of one of those men who thrust the point of a lance at me, long enough to pierce through six men at once.  I admit that I felt excited then!  The jinn having passed—­”

“The—­what?” asked Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, who was not familiar with Eastern terms.

“I beg a thousand pardons, it was a poetical reminiscence.  The lancers, having rushed through the boulevard like an avalanche, a laggard rider, a hundred steps behind the others, galloped proudly by, erect in his stirrups and flourishing his sword.  Suddenly the report of a gun resounded, the lancer reeled backward, then forward, and finally fell upon his horse’s neck; a moment later he turned in his saddle and lay stretched upon the ground, his foot caught in the stirrup; the horse, still galloping, dragged the man and the lance, which was fastened to his arm by a leather band.”

“How horrible!” said Clemence, clasping her hands.

Marillac, much pleased with the effect of his narration, leaned back in his chair and continued his tale with his usual assurance.

“I looked to the neighboring roofs to discover whence came this shot; as I was glancing to the right and left I saw smoke issuing through the blinds of the room on the second floor, which had been closed at the approach of the lancers.

“‘Good God!’ I exclaimed; ’it must be this handsome old man in the mouse-colored silk dressing-gown who amuses himself by firing upon the lancers, as if they were rabbits in a warren!’

“Just then the blinds were opened, and the strange fellow with the unruffled countenance leaned out and gazed with a smiling face in the direction the horse was taking, dragging his master’s body after him.  The patriarch had killed his man between two sips of his coffee.”

“And that is the cowardly way in which members of the royal guard were assassinated by the ‘heroes’ of your glorious insurrection!” exclaimed Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, indignantly.

“When the troops had passed,” Marillac continued, “the crowd returned, more excited and noisy than ever.  Barricades were erected with wonderful rapidity; two of those were on the boulevard close to the place where I was.  I saw a horseman suddenly bound over the first; he wore a tuft of red-and-white feathers in his hat.  I saw that it was a staff officer, doubtless carrying some despatch to headquarters.  He continued his way, sabre in its sheath, head erect, proud and calm in the midst of insulting shouts from the crowd; stones were thrown at him and sticks at his horse’s legs; he looked as if he were parading upon the Place du Carrousel.