under my feet. The dust rose and choked me;
it was sickening, foetid, awful; but my climb was, I felt, for life or
death, and I struggled on. The seconds seemed hours; but the few
moments I had in starting, combined with my youth and strength, gave
me a great advantage, and, though several forms struggled after me in
deadly silence which was more dreadful than any sound, I easily
reached the top. Since then I have climbed the cone of Vesuvius, and
as I struggled up that dreary steep amid the sulphurous fumes the
memory of that awful night at Montrouge came back to me so vividly
that I almost grew faint.

The mound was one of the tallest in the region of dust, and as I
struggled to the top, panting for breath and with my heart beating
like a sledge-hammer, I saw away to my left the dull red gleam of the
sky, and nearer still the flashing of lights. Thank God! I knew where
I was now and where lay the road to Paris!

For two or three seconds I paused and looked back. My pursuers were
still well behind me, but struggling up resolutely, and in deadly
silence. Beyond, the shanty was a wreck--a mass of timber and moving
forms. I could see it well, for flames were already bursting out; the
rags and straw had evidently caught fire from the lantern. Still
silence there! Not a sound! These old wretches could die game, anyhow.

I had no time for more than a passing glance, for as I cast an eye
round the mound preparatory to making my descent I saw several dark
forms rushing round on either side to cut me off on my way. It was now
a race for life. They were trying to head me on my way to Paris, and
with the instinct of the moment I dashed down to the right-hand side.
I was just in time, for, though I came as it seemed to me down the
steep in a few steps, the wary old men who were watching me turned
back, and one, as I rushed by into the opening between the two mounds
in front, almost struck me a blow with that terrible butcher's axe.
There could surely not be two such weapons about!

Then began a really horrible chase. I easily ran ahead of the old men,
and even when some younger ones and a few women joined in the hunt I
easily distanced them. But I did not know the way, and I could not
even guide myself by the light in the sky, for I was running away from
it. I had heard that, unless of conscious purpose, hunted men turn
always to the left, and so I found it now; and so, I suppose, knew
also my pursuers, who were more animals t