I can see the officers gathering in groups and taking counsel together. They are alarmed. Then they write. They must tell the Oligarchy of this singular scene, and their suspicions, and put them on their guard. There is danger in the air. In a moment orderlies dash down the street in headlong race, bearing dispatches. In a little while they come back, hurrying, agitated. I took to the north. I can see a black line across the street. It is a high barricade. It has been quietly constructed while the fight raged. And beyond, far as my eyes can penetrate, there are dark masses of armed men. The orderlies report--there is movement--agitation. I can see the imperious motions of an officer. I can read the signs. He is saying, "Back--back--for your lives! Break out through the side streets!" They rush away; they divide; into every street they turn. Alas! in a few minutes, like wounded birds, they come trailing back. There is no outlet. Every street is blockaded, barricaded, and filled with huge masses of men. _The rat-trap has another rat-trap outside of it!_ The Oligarchy will wait long for those dispatches. They will never read them this side of eternity. The pear has ripened. The inevitable has come. The world is about to shake off its masters. There is dead silence. Why should the military renew the fight in the midst of the awful doubt that rests upon their souls? Ah! we will soon know the best or worst; for, far away to the west, dark, portentous as a thundercloud--spread out like the wings of mighty armies--moving like a Fate over the bright sky, comes on the vast array of the Demons. "Will they be faithful to their bargain?" I ask myself; "or will old loyalty and faith to their masters rise up in their hearts?" No, no, it is a rotten age. Corruption sticks faster than love. On they come! Thousands of them. They swoop, they circle; they pause above the insurgents. The soldiers rejoice! Ah, no! No bombs fall, a meteor of death. They separate; they move north, south, east, west; they are above the streets packed full of the troops of the government! May God have mercy on them now! The sight will haunt me to my dying day. I can see, like a great black rain of gigantic drops, the lines of the falling bombs against the clear blue sky. And, oh, my God! what a scene below, in those close-packed streets, among those gaily dressed multitudes! The dreadful astonishment! The crash--the bang--the explosions; the uproar, the confusion; and, most horrible of all, the inevitable, invisible death by the poison. The line of the barricade is alive with fire. With my glass I can almost see the dynamite bullets exploding in the soldiers, tearing them to pieces, like internal volcanoes.