At all events, the result showed that the sign was taken to imply death.
Hardly had Mandat gone down three of the City Hall steps before a pistol-shot shattered his skull, at the very instant when his son ran toward him. Three years before, the same reception had met Flesselles.
Mandat was only wounded, but as he rose, he fell again with a score of pike-wounds. The boy held out his hands and wailed for his father, but none paid any heed to him. Presently, in the bloody ring, where bare arms plunged amid flashing pikes and swords, a head was seen to surge up, detached from the trunk.
The boy swooned.
The aid-de-camp galloped back to the Tuileries to report what he had witnessed.
The murderers went off in two gangs: one took the body to the river, to throw it in, the other carried the head through the streets.
This was going on at four in the morning.
Let us precede the aid to the Tuileries, and see what was happening.
Having confessed, and made easy about matters since his conscience was tranquilized, the king, unable to resist the cravings of nature, went to bed. But we must say that he lay down dressed.
On the alarm-bells ringing more loudly, and the roll of the drums beating the reveille, he was roused.