cles, a city bitterly hostile, and occupied by a
garrison far outnumbering us. Never, indeed, did men enter on a more
forlorn or perilous enterprise.

I remember to this day how I felt as we advanced through the darkness,
and how long it seemed while we waited, huddled and silent, at the head
of the bridge, expecting the explosion of the petard, which had been
fixed to the first gate. At length it burst, filling the heavens with
flame; before the night closed down again on our pale faces, the leaders
were through the breach and past that gate, and charging madly over the
bridge, the leading companies all mingled together.

I had no fear now. If a friendly hand had not pulled me back, I should
have run on to the petard which drove in the second gate. As it was, I
passed through the second obstacle side by side with the King--but went
no farther. The garrison was awake now, and a withering fire from fifty
arquebuses swept the narrow bridge; those who were not struck stumbled
over the dying; the air was filled with groans and cries; a moment and
the very bravest recoiled, and sought safety behind the second gate,
where we stood in shelter.

The moment was critical, for now the whole city was aroused. Shouts of
triumph rose above the exploding of the guns; in every tower bells
jangled noisily, and on the summit of the last gateway on the bridge,
which from every loophole and window poured on us a deadly hail of
slugs, a beacon-fire blazed up, turning the black water below us to
blood.

I have said that the moment was critical--for France and for us. For a
few seconds all hung back. Then St. Martin sprang forward, and by his
side Captain Robert, who had fixed the first petard. They darted along
the bridge, but only to fall and lie groaning and helpless halfway over.
Henry made a movement as if to follow, but young M. de Rosny held him
back by force, while half a dozen soldiers made the attempt. Of these
four fell at once under the pitiless fire, and two crawled back wounded.
It seemed that a man must be more than mortal to pass that space; and
while one might count twenty no one moved.

Captain Robert lay scarcely fifteen paces from us, and by his side the
hammer, spike, and petard he had carried. He and they were visible in
the glow of ruddy light that poured down on the bridge. Suddenly, while
I stood panting and irresolute, longing, yet not daring--since I saw
older men hang back--suddenly a hand twitched my sleeve,