Nearing the massive portals that opened wide into his Excellency's realm, my lady suppressed a shiver; but the Marquis, in a low tone ventured to jest on the depressing and melancholy aspect of the Mount at that hour. To these light remarks she returned no answer, and he had just begun to rally her on a certain quietness of spirits, apparent on the beach and irreconcilable with the circumstances of the moment, when a sharp exclamation fell from the girl's lips. In front of them, between the soldiers and the entrance to that upper part of the Mount, many dark forms had suddenly darted forth; at the same time from near-by houses came unmistakable sounds of life and activity; doors were thrown open and windows raised. The town they thought asleep had merely been watching; now showed its bright eyes in a multitude of menacing lights around them; below, where likewise a mysterious marshaling had occurred, from alleys, corners, and hovels, immediately after the passing of the Governor's party! "What does it mean?" Again she heard the Marquis' tones, less confident now, as he turned to the commandant. "Treachery!" The commandant's voice rang out. "They've broken faith with us!" "Dogs!" My lord gazed uncertainly ahead; dubiously behind. "What are we going to do?" "Do?" The commandant suppressed an imprecation. "Push on to the upper gates!" "To the gates!" cried the Marquis; then wheeled quickly. "But you--Elise!" "Never mind me!" she returned, with steady lips and eyes. There was no time for further words; a sharp order from the commandant and the troopers spurred forward toward the entrance in the wall and those whose purpose it was to oppose them. What happened thereafter the girl was but vaguely cognizant of; reports of guns, flashing of steel surrounded her; the clattering of hoofs mingled with the loud shouts of men. "The Bastille of the North! Down with it!" This was their battle-cry; on every side she heard it, though hardly realizing the purport of the words; confused, she listened to her father's name--her own--bandied about. She wondered why those on the wall, the soldiers within, did not fire and repel all these people. Then almost at once came the answer. The troopers' comrades were mixed in the mêlée without; she and they, too--so adroitly had the moment for striking been planned--might be swept down in the volleys from the ramparts. A cannon boomed above; but its deafening reverberations were answered only with laughter and jeers-- _Mon dieu_! Did his Excellency think to frighten them with sound, as if they were timid children fleeing from thunder? Was his Excellency aiming at stars? And again that cry: "The Bastille of the North! We, too, will take our Bastille!"--dominated the clashing of arms and the tumult of strife.