The next moment she could have bitten out her tongue; she knew that such words and such a cry were of all others the most likely to excite her patient. But after some obscure fashion their positions seemed this night to be reversed. It was the mother who in her turn patted her daughter's hand and sought to soothe her. "Ay, God forbid," she said softly. "But man must do his part. I mind when----" She paused. Her eyes travelling round the room, fixed their gaze on the fireplace. She seemed to be perplexed by something she saw there, and Anne, still fearing a recurrence of her illness, asked her hurriedly what it was. "What is it; mother?" she said, leaning over her, and following the direction of her eyes. "Is it the great pot you are looking at?" "Ay," Madame Royaume answered slowly. "How comes it here?" "There was no one below," Anne explained. "I brought it up this morning. Don't you remember? There is no fire below." "No?" "That is all, mother. You saw me bring it up." "Ay?" And then after a pause: "Let it down a hook." "But----" "Let it down, child!" And when Anne, to soothe her, had obeyed and let the great pot down until the fire licked its sides, "Is it full?" Madame asked. "Half-full, mother." "It will do." And for a time the woman in the bed was silent. Outside there was noise enough. The windows in the room looked into the Corraterie, from which side no more than passing sounds of conflict rose to them; the pounding of running feet, sharp orders, a shot, and then another. But the landing without the bedroom door looked down by a high-set window into the narrow Tertasse; and from this, though the door was shut, rose an inferno of noise, the clash of steel, the cries of the wounded, the shouts of the fighters. The townsfolk, rallying from their first alarm, were driving the enemy out of the Rue de la Cite, penning him into the Tertasse, and preparing to carry that street. On a sudden there came, not a cessation of the uproar, but a change in its character. It was as if the current of a river were momentarily stayed and pent up; and then with a mighty crashing of timbers and shifting of pebbles, and a din as of the world's end, began to run the other way. Anne's face turned a shade paler; so appalling was the noise, she would fain have stopped her ears. But her mother sat up. "What is it?" she asked eagerly. "What is it?" "Dear mother, do not fret! It must be----" "Go and see, child! Go to the window in the passage, and see!" Madame Royaume persisted.