ll houses, and
lo! the dawn was coming. It wanted scarcely half-an-hour of daylight,
though down in the dark streets about us the night still reigned. Yes,
the morning was coming, bright and hopeful, and the city was quiet.
There were no signs, no sounds of riot or disorder. Surely, I thought,
surely Pavannes must be mistaken. Either the plot had never existed,
that was most likely, or it had been abandoned, or perhaps--Crack!

A pistol shot! Short, sharp, ominous it rang out on the instant, a
solitary sound in the night! It was somewhere near us, and I stopped.
I had been speaking to my companion at the moment. "Where was it?" I
cried, looking behind me.

"Close to us. Near the Louvre," he answered, listening intently. "See!
See! Ah, heavens!" he continued in a voice of despair, "it was a
signal!"

It was. One, two, three! Before I could count so far, lights sprang
into brightness in the windows of nine out of ten houses in the short
street where we stood, as if lighted by a single hand. Before too I
could count as many more, or ask him what this meant, before indeed, we
could speak or stir from the spot, or think what we should do, with a
hurried clang and clash, as if brought into motion by furious frenzied
hands, a great bell just above our heads began to boom and whirr! It
hurled its notes into space, it suddenly filled all the silence. It
dashed its harsh sounds down upon the trembling city, till the air
heaved, and the houses about us rocked. It made in an instant a
pandemonium of the quiet night.

We turned and hurried instinctively from the place, crouching and
amazed, looking upwards with bent shoulders and scared faces. "What is
it? What is it?" I cried, half in resentment; half in terror. It
deafened me.

"The bell of St. Germain l'Auxerrois!" he shouted in answer. "The
Church of the Louvre. It is as I said. We are doomed!"

"Doomed? No!" I replied fiercely, for my courage seemed to rise again
on the wave of sound and excitement as if rebounding from the momentary
shock. "Never! We wear the devil's livery, and he will look after his
own. Draw, man, and let him that stops us look to himself. You know
the way. Lead on!" I cried savagely.

He caught the infection and drew his sword. So we started boldly, and
the result justified my confidence. We looked, no doubt, as like
murderers as any who were abroad that night. Moving in this desperate
guise we hastened up that str