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Show 106 \Vo‘wn uwm OUT OF THE .IA\\'S OI" [)EA'I‘II PRINCESS MARY'S GIFT BOOK knee, and papa sat close beside her. and we prayed to (Sod for deliverance from our own atIlictions, and for the poor people who were crying and moaningr all the day. But 01' what went on outside our prison walls we had not an id ‘:1. though ,sotlu'tinu's poor papa would brave the warder's brutalities and ask him questions of what was happening in Paris every day, " 'l'hey are hanging all the aristos to the street»lan1ps of the. city," the man would reply, with a cruel laugh. " and it will be your turn nest." ‘ \Ve had been in prison for about a lortnight. then one (lav'iohl shall I ever torget it vae heard in the distance a noise like the ruinblint‘r ofthunder: nearer and nearer it came. and soon the sound became less confused. (Tries and shrieks could be h'u‘u'd above that rumbling din, but so weird and 111enacing did those cries seem. that instinctit'elyi though none of us knew what they meant-we all felt a nameless terror grip our hearts. Oh! I am not going to attempt th ‘ awful task of describingr to you all the horrors of that IIC\V(‘I'*I()-IIC'IIIi'g‘tlttt‘ll (lay. People who to-tlay cannot speak without a shudder of the September 111assacres have not the remotcst conception of what really happened on that truly awful second day of that month. I \Ve are all at peace and happy now, but whenever 111V thoughts fly back to that morning. whenever the ears of 111en1ory retall those w \ hideous yells of fury and of hate. coupled with the equally horrible cries for pity which pierced through the walls behind which the six 01 us were crouching. trembling, and praying. whenever I think of it all my hAart still heats violently with that same nameless dread which held it in its deathly grip then. look up, but the cry of terror which rose from my l1 'art y'as choked ere it reached my throat. Jean and Andre looked 11p too, and they shrieked, and so did Marguerite, and papa jumped 11p and ran to 11s and stood suddenly between us and the window like a tiger defending its young. int we were all of 11s quite silent now. The children did not even cry, they stared wide~cyed _ «paralysed with f *ar. Only maman continued to pray, and we could hear papa‘s rapid and stertorous breathing as he watched what was going 011 in that window above. Heavy blows were falling against themasonry round the grating. and we could l1 *ar the nerveracking sound of a file working 011 the iron bars, -" Ys‘»;s.§ !§‘&‘ 5., 1 and farther away below the window those awful , t, . yells of human beings transformed by hate and fury into savage beasts. How long this horrible suspense lasted I cannot 110w tell you : the next thing I remember clearly is a number of men in horrible ragged clothing pouring into our vault-like prison from the window above; the next moment they rushed at us simultaneously- 01' so it seemed to me, for I was just then reeonnnending my soul to God, so certain was I that in that same second I would cease to live. It was all like a dream, for instead of the horrible shriek of satistied hate which we were all expecting to hear, a whispering voice, coin- manding and low, struck our ea' and dragged us, as it were, from out the abyss of despair into the sudden light of hope. Ilundreds of men, women, and children were " If you will trust us," the voice whispered, "and not be afraid, you massacred in the prisons of Paris on that day-it was a St, l'yartlmlomew even more hideous than the last. Maman was trying in vain to keep our thoughts fixed upon Godgpapa sat on the stone bench, his elbows resting on his knees, his head buried in his will be safely out of Paris within an hour." I'apa \ :as the first to realise what was happening: he had never lost his presence of mind, even during the darkest moment of this terrible time, and he said quite calmly and steadily now: "' \Vhat must we do ? " hands, but maman was kneeling on the floor with her dear. arms encircling us all, and her trembling lips moving in continuous prayer. \\'e felt that we were facing death-and what a death l-U, my God I Suddenly the small grated window-high up in the dank wall-became obscured. I was the first to " I'ersuade the little ones not to b . afraid, not to cry, to be as still and silent as may be," continued the voice, which I fell, must be that ot one of God‘s own angels, so exquisitely kind did it sound to my car. " They will be quiet and still without persuasion," said papa; "eh, children ?" And Jean, Andre, and Marguerite murmured : " Yes I " whilst 1mm 1. |