rties, on the other side of the river."
Jean gave vent to a muttered oath in his irresolution and despair.
"_Nom de Dieu!_ What are we to do?"
It was useless to think of attempting to pass the Pont Royal, which
could not have been more brilliantly illuminated if the noonday sun had
been shining on it. At every moment shots were heard coming from either
bank of the river. Besides that, the blazing Tuileries lay directly
in their path, and the Louvre, guarded and barricaded, would be an
insurmountable obstacle.
"That ends it, then; there's no way open," said Jean, who had spent six
months in Paris on his return from the Italian campaign.
An idea suddenly flashed across his brain. There had formerly been a
place a little below the Pont Royal where small boats were kept for
hire; if the boats were there still they would make the venture.
The route was a long and dangerous one, but they had no choice, and,
further, they must act with decision.
"See here, little one, we're going to clear out from here; the locality
isn't healthy. I'll manufacture an excuse for my lieutenant; I'll tell
him the communards took me prisoner and I got away."
Taking his unhurt arm he sustained him for the short distance they had
to traverse along the Rue du Bac, where the tall houses on either hand
were now ablaze from cellar to garret, like huge torches. The burning
cinders fell on them in showers, the heat was so intense that the hair
on their head and face was singed, and when they came out on the _quai_
they stood for a moment dazed and blinded by the terrific light of the
conflagrations, rearing their tall crests heavenward, on either side the
Seine.
"One wouldn't need a candle to go to bed by here," grumbled Jean, with
whose plans the illumination promised to interfere. And it was only when
he had helped Maurice down the steps to the left and a little way down
stream from the bridge that he felt somewhat easy in mind. There was
a clump of tall trees standing on the bank of the stream, whose shadow
gave them a measure of security. For near a quarter of an hour the dark
forms moving to and fro on the opposite _quai_ kept them in a fever of
apprehension. There was firing, a scream was heard, succeeded by a
loud splash, and the bosom of the river was disturbed. The bridge was
evidently guarded.
"Suppose we pass the night in that shed?" suggested Maurice, pointing to
the wooden structure that served the boatman as an office.
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