k of a bright winter afternoon came
in sight of its spires and domes. The smoke rising from its forest of
chimneys hung over it in a semi-transparent cloud, through which the sun
shone, round and red, like a ball of fire. As they entered the city by
the Porte Saint Bernard, a glorious spectacle greeted their wondering
eyes. In front of them Notre Dame stood out in bold relief, with its
magnificent flying buttresses, its two stately towers, massive and
majestic, and its slender, graceful spire, springing from the lofty
roof at the point of intersection of the nave and transepts. Many other
lesser towers and spires rose above churches and chapels that were lost
amid the densely crowded houses all about them, but de Sigognac had
eyes only for the grand old cathedral, which overwhelmed him with
astonishment and delight. He would have liked to linger for hours and
gaze upon that splendid triumph of architecture, but he needs must go
forward with the rest, however reluctantly. The wonderful and unceasing
whirl and confusion in the narrow, crowded streets, through which
they made their way slowly, and not without difficulty, perplexed and
distracted him, accustomed as he had been all his life to the vast
solitude of the Landes, and the deathly stillness that reigned almost
unbroken in his own desolate old chateau; it seemed to him as if a
mill-wheel were running round and round in his head, and he could feel
himself staggering like a drunken man. The Pont-Neuf was soon reached,
and then de Sigognac caught a glimpse of the famous equestrian statue in
bronze of the great and good king, Henri IV, which stands on its lofty
pedestal and seems to be keeping guard over the splendid bridge, with
its ever-rolling stream of foot-passengers, horsemen, and vehicles
of every kind and description, from the superb court carriage to the
huckster's hand-cart; but in a moment it was lost to view, as the
chariot turned into the then newly opened Rue Dauphine. In this street
was a fine big hotel, frequently patronized by ambassadors from foreign
lands, with numerous retinues; for it was so vast that it could always
furnish accommodations for large parties arriving unexpectedly. As the
prosperous state of their finances admitted of their indulging in such
luxury, Herode had fixed upon this house as their place of abode in
Paris; because it would give a certain prestige to his troupe to be
lodged there, and show conclusively that they were not mere n