children to Les Arènes; but while I was preparing bandages and a
liniment for your poor feet, she returned and accompanied me back."

"Madeleine is a good angel," said I, pressing my arm more closely to
her.

"What is your case to-day, may be ours to-morrow," said she.

We continued our painful and tedious course, "lurking in the thievish
corners of the streets," like evil-doers, if we saw any one coming. The
moon was dangerously bright, but the shadows were proportionately dark,
and at length we reached Les Arènes, with their depths of mysterious
shadow, and solemn pillars and arches silvered by the white beams.
Though the amphitheatre is in the heart of the city, the neighborhood
seemed unusually deserted. People had fled, or were cowering in
hiding-places, or were flocking to see what was going on elsewhere.
I cannot otherwise account for it. Only that as we passed near the
house of good old Monsieur de Laccassagne, we could hear the abominable
uproar of drums within it, and it would seem as if all the drummers in
Nismes must have been congregated to drive the poor old gentleman to
distraction. We had also seen in the distance, floods of light streaming
from the windows of the cathedral, and heard a strange murmur of cries,
and we afterwards learnt that multitudes of poor people of the baser
sort had been driven like oxen or silly sheep into the church, pricked
on by the dragoons' swords and shouts of "Kill! kill!" to be present
at mass.

But now, as we gained a spot where, at the end of a street, we could
gain a distant glimpse of our factory, we perceived the sky red with
flurid flames bursting from it.