"Oh, my father! my father!" said Louise to me, in a low voice; "can we not save my father! Oh, Henry! Henry! think of him!"
I spoke a word upon the subject to the young merchant, but he stopped me sharply ere I could finish my sentence. "I am risking my life by what I am doing even now. Speak not of it! He has a Catholic wife; she will save his house. Come on! come on! You will see such sights as will make you glad of your own lives!"
I whispered to Louise the hope that he gave me, scanty as it was; and, alas! as we hastened onward, the sights we saw did fully justify that which the young merchant had said.
Before we had gone half a mile, the streets of Paris were one scene of massacre and horror. The whole place was blazing with torches; large parties of armed men, on foot and on horseback, were scouring the streets, killing every one even suspected of Protestantism; and many a Catholic, too, was slain in the anarchy of the time, who stood between fair estates and greedy relations. Six or seven we saw slain before our eyes; and thrice, while the echoing screams of new victims were heard within the houses, a dead body was cast forth from the upper windows into the streets as we were passing. Instantly a crowd of the dark and sallow villains that crowd the lanes and alleys of every great metropolis, gathered round, like vultures over the dead, to strip it of its clothing; and often was heard the low groan or faint cry which followed the dagger-stroke that ended what the assassins above had left unfinished.
As we approached the banks of the river, however, the scene became still more terrible and still more confused; thousands of figures, all bent on the same bloody business, whirled round us in every direction; the cries of the victims; the shouts of their butchers; the breaking in of doors and windows; the occasional discharge of firearms; the incessant ringing of the bells, the beating of drums, and the sounding of trumpets, made a noise perfectly deafening; while the sights that were now presented, as clearly as if it had been day, made the heart sick with horror, and agony, and indignant grief. In one gateway alone I saw piled up so many human bodies, among which were two women, that the gate could not be shut; and, as I kept my eyes upon the ground, I saw that the gutters flowed red with blood. A little farther on, a boy of thirteen or fourteen years of age was seen dragging along a naked body by the heels; and farther still, a fiend of a woman pressing out the last breath from the body of a creature like herself, while she tore the rich clothes from her dying limbs.
All those that appeared active in the massacre, of a better class, at least, all I saw were masked; but much happened even close to me that I beheld not at all; for my whole thoughts were taken up with the situation of the dear girl by my side, and I feared every moment that her strength would fail through terror, horror, and agitation. She hung heavily upon my arm, it is true, but still she did not give way. With her eyes bent down upon the ground, she hurried on, while the kind girl Miriam, though evidently terribly agitated herself, poured strengthening and consoling words into her ear, and supported her on the other side.
Three times we had been stopped and commanded to unmask; but either a single word from young Martin Vern, or Moric Endem's well-imitated shout of "Down with the Huguenots!" obtained us a free passage without uncovering our faces.
At length, the long-wished-for sight of the street in which the merchant lived presented itself; but at that very spot we were stopped by a crowd of wild rabble whom no words would pacify; and even when the young merchant and two of those who were with him pulled their vizards off, a furious man, brandishing a sword, swore that he gave a false name, and was calling out to kill him, when Moric Endem, starting forward, exclaimed, "Ha! Gouquant! Huguenot! Maheutre that you are! Knock his brains out, Martin! Knock his brains out! He was Coligne's horseboy at Moncontour, and was taken. Knock his brains out! knock his brains out! He is a Huguenot shamming Catholic."
With his drawn sword in his hand he rushed forward, and, before he could be stopped, cut the man down. "By the mass, there are more Huguenots among them!" he cried, springing at another man. "Kill them all! kill them all! Down with the Huguenots!" but the men fled in every direction, and left the street clear.
Young Martin Vern, however, paused and looked angrily upon Moric Endem, saying, "This must be answered."