"Perfectly," replied the officer; "every street is a fortress, every house a redoubt. But we never intended to contend, and indeed had received orders to retire, but could not do so on account of the barricades, when suddenly some shot was fired from behind those buildings; and whether it was a signal to commence the massacre, or whether the people thought that we had fired, I know not, but they instantly began to attack us; and here are more than sixty of my poor fellows butchered without cause."
"There is only one plan to be pursued, sir," replied Brissac, "in order to save you. You must instantly lay down your arms."
"Were the people opposed to me soldiers, sir," replied the officer, "I would do so at a word; but the people seem in a state of madness, and the moment we are disarmed they might fall upon us all, and butcher us in cold blood--yourself and all, for aught I know."
"I have provided against that, sir," replied Brissac. "Here are the keys of those buildings, which will shelter you from all attack, I must not put in your hands a fortress against the citizens of Paris; so that while you retain your weapons you cannot enter; but the moment you lay down your arms, I will give you that shelter, and pledge my word for your protection."
The joy which spread over the officer's countenance at this offer plainly showed, what neither word nor look had done before, how deeply he had felt the terrible situation in which he was placed.
"It shall be done this instant," he said; and returning to his men, while Brissac unlocked the gates, he made them pile their arms in the market-place, amidst a deafening shout from the people on all sides. The Swiss then marched, rank by rank, into the place of shelter thus afforded them; and Brissac, bowing low to the commander, who entered the last, said with a smile, which the other returned but faintly, "In name, my dear sir, the exchange you are just making is not an agreeable one; but I am sure you will find that this slaughterhouse is rather a more comfortable position than the one from which I have just delivered you."
The Marquis then caused a guard of the citizens to be placed over the arms of the Swiss; and turning to Charles of Montsoreau, he said, "Come, let us quick to the new bridge. The King used to say of me, Monsieur de Logères, that I was good for nothing, either on the sea or on the land. I think he will find to-day that I am good for something on the pavement."
Thus saying he led the way back through the barrier; and Charles of Montsoreau, having more leisure now than before to observe the countenances and demeanour of the different people around, could not help thinking that older and more skilful soldiers than the citizens of Paris could boast were busy in directing the operations of the populace in different parts of the city. The scene was a strange and extraordinary one altogether; the streets were absolutely swarming with people, and crowds were hurrying hither and thither through every open space, but were still kept in dense masses by the constant obstruction of the barricades.
Hastening on through the midst of these masses with Brissac, the young nobleman's eye ran hastily over all the crowds that he passed, when suddenly, at the end of one of the largest streets, which rose between the dark gigantic houses on either side, with a gentle acclivity from the spot where he then stood, he saw amongst the various groups which were moving rapidly along or across it, one which attracted his attention more particularly than the rest. It was at that moment coming down the street, but proceeding in a somewhat slanting direction towards the corner of another small street, not fifty yards from the spot where he then was. There were two figures in it, in regard to which he could not be deceived: the one nearest him was the Abbé de Boisguerin, the second was his own brother, Gaspar de Montsoreau; and he could not help imagining that another whom he saw leading the way was that personage who had first called upon him on his arrival in Paris, named Nicolas Poulain.
Before he could recollect himself, an exclamation of surprise had called the attention of Brissac; but remembering how much his brother had excited the indignation of the Duke of Guise, and that his very life might be in danger if taken in the streets of Paris at that time, Charles of Montsoreau only answered in reply to Brissac's questions, that he had fancied he saw somebody whom he knew.