river quays, and crossing over the Pont Neuf, they skirted the stately
Louvre, and plunged into the labyrinth of narrow but important streets
which extended to the northward. The young officer had his head still
thrust out of the window, but his view was obscured by a broad gilded
carriage which lumbered heavily along in front of them. As the road
broadened, however, it swerved to one side, and he was able to catch a
glimpse of the house to which they were making.

It was surrounded on every side by an immense crowd.



CHAPTER VI.


A HOUSE OF STRIFE.

The house of the Huguenot merchant was a tall, narrow building standing
at the corner of the Rue St. Martin and the Rue de Biron. It was four
stories in height, grim and grave like its owner, with high peaked roof,
long diamond-paned windows, a frame-work of black wood, with gray
plaster filling the interstices, and five stone steps which led up to
the narrow and sombre door. The upper story was but a warehouse in
which the trader kept his stock, but the second and third were furnished
with balconies edged with stout wooden balustrades. As the uncle and
the nephew sprang out of the caleche, they found themselves upon the
outskirts of a dense crowd of people, who were swaying and tossing with
excitement, their chins all thrown forwards and their gaze directed
upwards. Following their eyes, the young officer saw a sight which left
him standing bereft of every sensation save amazement.