of Réveillon’s house. It was apparent to all the rioters within, that, unless they made a speedy exit, they would perish in the fire. Instantly a rush was made to the doors. As they poured through them, a horizontal flash of light darted into their eyes, followed by a rattling discharge, and several of the foremost rioters rolled on the pavement. Late in the day, when all the mischief was done, a regiment of Grenadiers had been ordered to the spot by the commandant of that quarter of the town, M. de Châtelet. The mob replied to the volley by hurling paving-stones, broken pieces of Réveillon’s furniture, iron fragments of the machinery; in short, anything ready at hand. The man with the bottle of leeches ran out into the middle of the street, a torch in his right hand, flourished the firebrand over his head, and called on his companions to follow him against the soldiers. Two or three started forwards. The military fired again. The man leaped high into the air, hurled his firebrand into their midst, and fell his length, shot through the heart; his bottle broke, and the leeches wriggled over his prostrate form. The Grenadiers did not fire again. A rumbling noise was heard, and along with it the tramp of advancing feet. In another moment the red uniforms of the Swiss soldiers gleamed out of the shadow of the street, and a battalion with fixed bayonets charged down the square in front of the Grenadiers, sweeping the mob before them. In their rear were a couple of cannon, drawn by horses, which were rapidly placed in position to clear the streets. But they were not discharged. The Grenadiers wheeled and charged in the direction opposite to that taken by the Swiss, and in a few minutes the scene of the riot was deserted by all save the dead and the dying, and the inhabitants looking anxiously from their windows. Why had not the soldiers been sent earlier? On the preceding day the mob had threatened this attack, but had been prevented from accomplishing their intention by the train of carriages that encumbered the road through the Faubourg S. Antoine, the 27th April being the day of the Charenton races. They had contented themselves with stopping all the carriages, and shouting through the windows, ‘Long live the Third Estate!’ The carriage of the Duke of Orleans had been alone excepted. The people had surrounded it, and cheered vociferously. The reason why the destruction of Réveillon’s factory was permitted by Berthier the Intendant, and Besenval the Commandant of the Forces in and around Paris, was that the Court had taken alarm at the threatening attitude of the third estate and the people of the metropolis, and it hoped to have an excuse for concentrating troops on Versailles and Paris.