dressmaker. (How I blessed
her afterward!) When we passed the Cours la Reine we were very
much astonished to see a man without a hat, very red in the face,
waving two blackened hands in the most excited manner. He jumped
into a cab and drove away as fast as the horse could gallop. Then
we saw a young lady, bareheaded, in a light dress, rushing through
the street, and another lady leaning up against the wall as if
fainting. The air was filled with the smell of burning tar and
straw, and we noticed some black smoke behind the houses. I
thought it must come from a stable burning in the neighborhood. We
had been so short a time in Paris that I did not realize how near
we were to the street where the bazar was held.

At half past five we drove through the rue Francois I'er on our
way home and saw a few people collected on the Place, otherwise
there seemed nothing unusual. When we passed through the avenue
Montaigne we met Monsieur Hanotaux (Minister of Foreign Affairs)
in a cab, looking wildly excited. He stood up and screamed to me,
"_Vous etes sauvee_." What could he mean?

I thought that he was crazy. I screamed back, "_Que dites vous_?"
but he was already out of hearing. It was only when we reached
home that we learned what had happened and understood what he had
meant.

How dreadful were the details!

The bazar was in a vacant lot inclosed by the walls of surrounding
houses, from which the only exit was through the room where a
cinematograph had been put up. This, being worked by a careless
operator, took fire.

The interior of the bazar consisted of canvas walls, of which one
part represented a street called _Vieux Paris_.

The bazar was crowded; the stalls were presided over by the most
fashionable ladies of Paris, and there were many gentlemen in the
crowd of buyers.

When the fire broke out a gentleman whose wife was one of the
stall-holders stood up near the door and cried out, "_Mesdames,
n'ayez pas peur. Il n'y a pas de danger_," and quietly went out,
leaving people to their fates.

Then came the panic.

Young ladies were trampled to death by their dancing-partners of
the evening before. One of them was engaged to be married, and
when her _fiance_ walked over her body, in his frenzy to escape,
she cried to him, "_Suivez moi, pour l'amour de Dieu!_" He screamed
back, "_Tout le monde pour soi_," and disappeared.

She was saved by a groom from the stables opposite. She was
horribly burned, but probab