her's hands in passionate emotion; but
few dared to trust themselves to words, for none knew if the peril were
really passed, or if the power of the tyrant might not become greater
than ever. While I yet listened to the tidings, which, in half-sentences
and broken words, reached my ears, the roll of drums, beating the
_generale_, was heard, and suddenly the head of a column appeared,
carrying torches, and seated upon ammunition-waggons and caissons, and
chanting in wild chorus the words of the 'Marseillaise.' On they came,
a terrible host of half-naked wretches, their heads bound in
handkerchiefs, and their brawny arms bare to the shoulders.

The artillery of the Municipale followed, many of the magistrates riding
amongst them dressed in the tricoloured scarfs of officers. As the
procession advanced, the crowds receded, and gradually the streets were
left free to the armed force.

While, terror-struck, I continued to gaze at the countenances over
which the lurid torchlight cast a horrid glare, a strong hand grasped my
collar, and by a jerk swung me up to a seat on one of the caissons; and
at the same time a deep voice said, 'Come, youngster, this is more in
thy way than mine,' and a black-bearded _sapeur_ pushed a drum before
me, and ordered me to beat the _generale_. Such was the din and uproar
that my performance did not belie my uniform, and I beat away manfully,
scarcely sorry, amid all my fears, at the elevated position from which I
now surveyed the exciting scene around me.

As we passed, the shops were closed on either side in haste, and across
the windows of the upper storeys beds and mattresses were speedily
drawn, in preparation for the state of siege now so imminent. Lights
flickered from room to room, and all betokened a degree of alarm and
terror. Louder and louder pealed the 'Marseillaise,' as the columns
deployed into the open Place, from which every street and lane
now poured its crowds of armed men. The line was now formed by the
artillery, which, to the number of sixteen pieces, ranged from end to
end of the square, the dense crowd of horse and foot forming behind, the
mass dimly lighted by the waving torches that here and there marked the
presence of an officer. Gradually the sounds of the 'Marseillaise' grew
fainter and fainter, and soon a dreary silence pervaded that varied
host, more terrible now, as they stood speechless, than in all the
tumultuous din of the wildest uproar. Meanwhile, from the