Dressed with her usual care, she sate in the drawing-room with all the candles lighted, the shutters closed, and the curtains tightly drawn. There was not a trace more colour than usual in her fine, high-bred face, nor a quiver to her slender hands, nor a tremor in her voice as she repeated some familiar psalm, or led us in the prayers we offered unceasingly throughout the long night. Her calmness, superior to the alarm without, dominated over the more ignorant—she put away danger from before them—as her unshaken confidence in a high protection inspired the more courageous.
But, for faint and stout hearted alike, it was a fearful night. For hours the great guns played without ceasing; at the nearer explosions the very rock on which the house was founded seemed loosened, and the effort to control ourselves and not leap to our feet with the terrified servants became such a strain on Angélique and myself that we dared not let our eyes meet, for fear of an outburst of tears.
Some time during the night, at an unusual uproar in the street, Mme. de Sarennes sent one of the men-servants to the upper windows to discover its cause. In a few moments he returned with horror-stricken face—“O mon Dieu, madame! the Cathedral is on fire! We are lost!” At which, a wail of despair broke from us all. Angélique's head dropped on her mother's lap. “O ma mère! It was God's own house!” she sobbed.
Her mother's white hand softly stroked her hair with reassuring firmness, while she whispered words of comfort. Then to every awe-struck heart about her she said, with confidence, “It was the house of God Himself, and He has not spared it, while His hand has been over our roof, and He is holding each one of us safe in His keeping”; and we took fresh courage at her words.
Gradually the fire slackened, and at length ceased. The morning came, and we were still safe and untouched, amid the surrounding ruin.
Soon after daybreak we heard a knock at the door, and the Town-Major, M. Joannès, was ushered in.
He looked upon us with astonishment in his tired eyes.
“Mme. de Sarennes, no one suspected you of being here! All the inhabitants fled from the face of the town when the fire opened. Pardon me, but you must move at once.”
“We have only been waiting for orders, monsieur. Where are we to go?”
“To the Hôtel-Dieu for the present, madame; but it is quite possible that will soon be unsafe, now they have our range. With your permission, I will send some men at once to move what can be carried and stored in some safer place; for you cannot expect the house to stand through another fire.”