"While we had been attacking Marseilles from the sea, the Italians, who a week before had crossed the frontier, and with the Germans occupied Lyons, had co-operated with us on land, and the terror-stricken Marseillais, hemmed in by fire and bullets on either side, had been swept away in thousands. "The scenes in the streets were, we afterwards learnt, awful; and although the garrison offered a desperate resistance to the Italians along the valley near the Château des Fleurs, most of them were killed, and nearly three thousand of their number taken prisoners. But the Italians were unable to enter Marseilles themselves, as, long before they had succeeded in breaking up the land defences, we had set the place on fire, and now, as night fell, the great city was one mass of flames, the lurid light from which illuminated sky and sea with a bright red glare." * * * * * The blazing African sun was fading, flooding the calm sapphire Mediterranean with its blood-red afterglow. The air was oppressive, the wind blew hot from the desert, and shoals of tiny green birds were chattering before roosting in the oasis of tall date palms that cast long shadows over the sun-baked stones of the Place du Gouvernement at Algiers. Everything was of a dazzling whiteness, relieved only by the blue sky and sea. The broad, handsome Square was almost deserted, the jalousies of the European houses were still closed, and although a few people were sipping absinthe at the cafés, the siesta was not yet over. At one corner of the Square the Mosque of Djama-el-Djedid, with its dome and minarets, stood out intensely white against the bright, cloudless sky, its spotless cleanliness causing the white-washed houses of Europeans to appear yellow and dingy; and as the _mueddin_ stood on one of the minarets with arms uplifted, calling the Faithful to prayer, idle Moors and Arabs, who had been lying asleep in the shadow during the afternoon, rose quickly, rearranged their burnouses, and entered the Mosque in order to render thanks to Allah. Darkness crept on after a brief twilight. Moorish women, wrapped in their white _haicks_, wearing their ugly baggy trousers, and veiled to the eyes, waddled along slowly and noiselessly among the palms, and gradually a gay cosmopolitan crowd assembled in the Place to enjoy the _bel fresco_ after the terrible heat of the day, and to listen to the fine band of the 1st Zouaves, which had already taken up its stand in the centre of the Square, and was now playing one of Strauss's dreamy waltzes.