I soon found her as she turned in at the bottom of the Rue Darnetal. "We must hurry," she said as the thunder began to mutter in the distance. Hardly had she spoken when a flash of lightning almost blinded us. This was followed almost immediately by a great crash of thunder that seemed to shake the very ground under our feet. Then came a sound of confused shouts as if something had happened at the other end of a cross street that we were passing. Could it be a house had been struck by the lightning? No, the shouts increased and changed to cries of terror. Soon we guessed the cause, as we heard a rushing sound of galloping horses, which, frightened by the flash and the clap of thunder, came in sight around a bend in the street enveloped in a cloud of dust, dragging a heavy wagon behind them. Instinctively Paula retreated to a protecting doorway and I huddled in terror close beside her. "Lisita!" she called suddenly. "Look! look!" What I saw was something that seemed to freeze my blood! Directly in the pathway of the onrushing horses, totally unconscious of his danger, was a little boy of about three years old toddling along in the middle of the road. One instant more and it would have been all over! Suddenly Paula left our shelter like a shot from a gun. Then I heard a sharp cry that rent the air like a knife, and then--I can remember little more--just a confusion of people running hither and thither, and then for me all was darkness, but in that darkness I seemed to hear still that piercing cry of anguish. * * * * * When I came back to consciousness I found myself on the sofa in our dining-room, with Catalina bathing my face and hands with cold water. "Where's Paula?" I cried, for I remembered at once that terrible scene in the Rue Darnetal. "Paula is in her room," said Catalina, turning her head to hide the tears that would come in spite of all her efforts. I tried to rise and go to our room. "Stay where you are, Lisita!" said Catalina. "You may go a bit later when you're feeling stronger." But now a terrible suspicion crossed my mind. "Catalina," I cried, almost beside myself with fear, "tell me the truth! Is Paula dead?" "No, Lisita; Paula's not dead," as she tried in vain to detain me; "She is still breathing--and"--but I heard nothing more. My legs trembled strangely as I stumbled toward our bedroom. Once there, again that terrible darkness started to come over me, but it was only a momentary weakness. With an effort I steadied myself as I came near the bed where my dearest one lay so still--that lovely face so white, the lips slightly parted with just a faint stirring of the breath. The room was full of people, some weeping silently, some trying to choke back their sobs. Others, like my father and Dr. Lebon, with an agony showing on their faces much more terrible than any tears.