The other voice said, "Let us be off." A last musket-shot was fired. Then a violent blow which we interpreted as a warning shook our wooden wall. It was in reality one of the workmen who had thrown down his gun when going away; the gun in falling had struck the paling of the ambulance. We heard the rapid steps of the two combatants, as they ran off. Almost at the same moment a tumult of voices, and of butt ends of muskets striking the paving-stones, filled the barricade. "It is taken," said the last-maker, and he blew out the candle. To the silence which enveloped this street a moment before succeeded a sort of ill-omened tumult. The soldiers knocked at the doors of the houses with the butt-ends of their muskets. It was by a miracle that the shop-door escaped them. If they had merely pushed against it, they would have seen that it was not shut, and would have entered. A voice, probably the voice of an officer, cried out, "Light up the windows!" The soldiers swore. We heard them say, "Where are those blackguard Reds? Let us search the houses." The ambulance was plunged in darkness. Not a word was spoken, not a breath could be heard; even the dying man, as though he divined the danger, had ceased to gurgle. I felt the little girl pressing herself against my legs. A soldier struck the barrels, and said laughingly,-- "Here is something to make a fire with to-night." Another resumed,-- "Which way have they gone? They were at least thirty. Let us search the houses." We heard one raising objections to this,-- "Nonsense! What do you want to do on a night like this? Enter the houses of the 'middle classes' indeed! There is some waste ground over yonder. They have taken refuge there." "All the same," repeated the others, "let us search the houses." At this moment a musket-shot was fired from the end of the street. This shot saved us. In fact, it was probably one of the two workmen who had fired in order to draw off their attention from us. "That comes from over there," cried the soldiers, "They are over there!" and all starting off at once in the direction from which the shot had been fired, they left the barricade and ran down the street at the top of their speed. The last-maker and myself got up. "They are no longer there," whispered he. "Quick! let us be off." "But this poor woman," said I. "Are we going to leave her here?" "Oh," she said, "do not be afraid, I have nothing to fear; as for me, I am an ambulance. I am taking care of the wounded. I shall even relight my candle when you are gone. What troubles me is that my poor husband has not yet come back!" We crossed the shop on tiptoe. The last-maker gently opened the door and glanced out into the street. Some inhabitants had obeyed the order to light up their windows, and four or five lighted candles here and there flickered in the wind upon the sills of the windows. The street was no longer completely dark.