of the Peace.

The streets of Aranjuez that night were filled with an excited mob, many
of them life-guards from Madrid, who divided into bands and patrolled the
vicinity of the palace, determined that no one should leave. About
midnight an incident changed the excitement into a riot. A lady left
Godoy's residence under escort of a few soldiers. She appeared to be about
to enter a carriage. The crowd pressed closely around, and the hussars of
the minister, who attended the lady, attempted to force a passage through
them. At this moment a gun was fired,--by whom was not known. A frightful
tumult at once arose. The life-guards and other soldiers rushed upon the
hussars, and a furious mob gathered around the palace, shouting, "Long
live the king!" "Death to the Prince of the Peace!"

Soon a rush was made towards the residence of the prince, which the throng
surrounded, gazing at it with eyes of anger, yet hesitating to make an
attack. As they paused in doubt, a messenger from the palace approached
the mansion and sought admission. It was refused from those within. He
insisted upon entrance, and a shot came from the guards within. In an
instant all hesitation was at an end. The crowd rushed in fury against the
doors, broke them in, and swarmed into the building, driving the guards
back in dismay.

It was magnificently furnished, but their passion to destroy soon made
havoc of its furniture and decorations. Pictures, hangings, costly
articles of use and ornament were torn down, dashed to pieces, flung from
the windows. The mob ran from room to room, destroying everything of value
they met, and eagerly seeking the object of their hatred, with a
passionate thirst for his life. The whole night was spent in the search,
and, the prince not being found, his house was reduced to a wreck.

Word of what was taking place filled the weak soul of Charles IV. with
mortal terror. The prince failed to appear, and, by the advice of the
ministers, a decree was issued by the king on the following morning
depriving Emanuel Godoy of the offices of grand admiral and generalissimo,
and exiling him from the court.

Thus fell this detestable favorite, the people, who blamed him for the
degradation of Spain, breaking into a passionate joy, singing, dancing,
building bonfires, and giving every manifestation of delight. In Madrid,
when the news reached there, the enthusiasm approached delirium.

Meanwhile, where was the fallen favorite? Despite