ich down below no influence
was felt. They all gazed, not able to get their breath, speechless,
beside themselves with joy, and saw the walls reappear, and the roofs of
the houses, and our glorious Cathedral against the blue sky. They stood
for a moment spell-bound. M. de Bois-Sombre informs me that he was
afraid of a wild rush into the city, and himself hastened to the front
to lead and restrain it; when suddenly a great cry rang through the air,
and some one was seen to fall across the high road, straight in front of
the Porte St. Lambert. M. de Bois-Sombre was at once aware who it was,
for he himself had watched Lecamus taking his place at the feet of my
wife, who awaited my return there. This checked the people in their
first rush towards their homes; and when it was seen that Madame Dupin
had also sunk down fainting on the ground after her more than human
exertions for the comfort of all, there was but one impulse of
tenderness and pity. When I reached the gate on my return, I found my
wife lying there in all the pallor of death, and for a moment my heart
stood still with sudden terror. What mattered Semur to me, if it had
cost me my Agnes? or how could I think of Lecamus or any other, while
she lay between life and death? I had her carried back to our own house.
She was the first to re-enter Semur; and after a time, thanks be to God,
she came back to herself. But Paul Lecamus was a dead man. No need to
carry him in, to attempt unavailing cares. 'He has gone, that one; he
has marched with the others,' said the old doctor, who had served in his
day, and sometimes would use the language of the camp. He cast but one
glance at him, and laid his hand upon his heart in passing. 'Cover his
face,' was all he said.

It is possible that this check was good for the restraint of the crowd.
It moderated the rush with which they returned to their homes. The sight
of the motionless figures stretched out by the side of the way overawed
them. Perhaps it may seem strange, to any one who has known what had
occurred, that the state of the city should have given me great anxiety
the first night of our return. The withdrawal of the oppression and awe
which had been on the men, the return of everything to its natural
state, the sight of their houses unchanged, so that the brain turned
round of these common people, who seldom reflect upon anything, and they
already began to ask themselves was it all a delusion--added to the
exhaustion of