"A thousand thanks, Monsieur," said Madame de St. André, rising, "and, as it is late, perhaps we had better go at once, although I hate to take you away from Monsieur Morris and Monsieur Calvert."
"Oh, as for me, I am off to the Club to hear further details of the riot and afterward to a supper with Madame de Flahaut. And as for Ned, I am sure he would rather a thousand times escort you back to the rue St. Honoré than to sit here chatting with an old fellow like myself," said Mr. Morris, and he went off limping and laughing, leaving the others to follow quickly. For, in truth, it was late, and the disturbance seemed to be increasing instead of decreasing as the night wore on. Mr. Jefferson and Calvert turned into the Palais Royal on their way back, after leaving Adrienne safe in the rue St. Honoré, and found it a seething mass of revolutionary humanity, as d'Azay had reported. The agitation increased all during the following day of the 13th, and on the 14th was struck the first great blow which resounded throughout France. Mr. Jefferson and Calvert, who, unconscious of the disturbance in the distant quarter of the Bastille, were calling at the hotel of Monsieur de Corny, had the particulars from that gentleman himself. He came in hurriedly, pale with emotion and fear and haggard with anxiety.
"Tis all over," he says to Mr. Jefferson when he could speak. "How it has happened God only knows. A fearful crime has been committed. The deputation, of which I was one, advanced, under a flag of truce, to have speech with de Launay, Governor of the Bastile, when a discharge killed several men standing near us. We retired, and instantly the great throng of people—there were, God knows, how many thousand wretches waiting there—rushed forward, and are even now in possession of that impregnable fortification. 'Tis incredible how 'twas done."
"And de Launay?" inquired Calvert.
"He has been beheaded and dragged to the Place de Grève," says de Corny, gloomily. "Come, if you wish to see the work of destruction," and he rose hurriedly.
Together the gentlemen entered Mr. Jefferson's carriage, which was waiting, and were driven along the boulevards toward the Bastille. But the streets near the prison were so crowded with spectators and armed ruffians that they were finally forced to alight from the carriage, which was left in the Place Royale, and proceed on foot. As they passed Monsieur Beaumarchais's garden, they came upon Mr. Morris and Madame de Flahaut, who had also driven thither and were leaning against the fence looking on at the work of demolition.
"You should have been here some moments ago," said Mr. Morris.
"Lafayette has just ridden by with the key of the Bastille, which has
been given to him and which, he tells me, he proposes sending to General
Washington. A strange gift!"
"Why strange?" inquired Mr. Jefferson. "'Tis an emblem of hard-earned liberty."
"An emblem of madness," said Mr. Morris, with a shrug. "However, I have witnessed some thrilling scenes in this madness. But an hour ago a fellow climbed upon the great iron gate and, failing to bring it down, implored his comrades to pull him by the legs, thus sustaining the rack. He had the courage and strength to hold on until his limbs were torn from the sockets. 'Twould make a great painting, and I shall suggest the idea to d'Angiviliers."
"Do they know of this at Versailles?" asked Calvert.