"In! In! Set it on fire! Death to Conde's friends!" they roared. "Go!" said I sternly, pushing Madame Coutance out of the room, "and I pray that this poor girl's death is not laid to your account." The terrified servants had already fled, but madame found some garments, in which the two dressed. I waited for them on the stairs, and my blood ran cold at the yells of the ravenous pack below. Crash! Crash! The barrier was yielding! A few more stout blows and they would be upon us. A second, aye, even half a second might mean the difference to us between life and death. "Quick! Quick!" I cried, as the ladies in their borrowed dresses ran from the room. "The barricade will fall at any moment!" Half dragging, half supporting Marie, Madame Coutance and I ran swiftly along the landing, as, with the noise of a river in flood, the crowd burst into the hall. "Down with Conde!" The shout was appalling, and even Marie's aunt, for all her bravado, shrank at it. The sound of the savage voices urged us on, through the servants' quarters, down a narrow staircase, into the kitchen, and so to the yard beyond. The door was already wide open, and we pushed through to a side street. Just in time! A portion of the mob had swept round to the back of the house, and almost directly we found ourselves in the midst of the crowd, fighting, pushing, struggling, with all our might to force a way through. Marie, poor girl, clung to me nervously in an almost fainting state, but her aunt walked boldly with head erect and her eyes flashing like stars. In spite of the terrible danger I could hardly repress a smile at sight of this high-born dame in her servant's dress, compelled to struggle with the _canaille_ like a woman of the markets. To make matters worse, we were forced to cry aloud, "Down with Conde!" which I did lustily, but madame made many wry faces, and, but for her niece, would have refused outright. It was quite painful enough for her to hear others insulting the great hero. Twice we were swung back to the door of the house, which was now completely wrecked; then, still surrounded by the mob, we were tossed, like floating straws, clear of the street. Since that night I have taken part in more than one fierce battle, but have never experienced the same feeling of horror as during that eventful struggle in the Rue Crillon. The danger was not yet over; we had still some distance to walk, and every few yards we met groups of rioters hurrying to the work of destruction. Some cried, "Down with the Queen!" or "Down with the Parliament!" but most of them yelled "Down with Conde!" because for the moment that was the popular cry. Just at first we walked rather briskly, but very soon Marie's pace became slower, she hung with greater weight on my arm, and I feared every moment she would faint; It was evident that unless she got better we should not reach St. Denis that night.