nd, for eight hours. "Did you see Conde himself?" they asked
Turenne, after it was over. "I saw not one, but a dozen Condes," was the
answer; "he was in every place at once."

But there was one danger more for Conde, one opportunity more for
Mademoiselle, that day. Climbing the neighboring towers of the Bastille,
she watched the royal party on the heights of Charonne, and saw fresh
cavalry and artillery detached to aid the army of Turenne. The odds were
already enormous, and there was but one course left for her. She was
mistress of Paris, and therefore mistress of the Bastille. She sent for
the governor of the fortress, and showed him the advancing troops. "Turn
the cannon under your charge, Sir, upon the royal army." Without waiting
to heed the consternation she left behind her, Mademoiselle returned to
the gate. The troops had heard of the advancing reinforcements, and were
drooping again; when, suddenly, the cannon of the Bastille, those Spanish
cannon; flamed out their powerful succor, the royal army halted and
retreated, and the day was won.

The Queen and the Cardinal, watching from Charonne, saw their victims
escape them. But the cannon-shots bewildered them all. "It was probably a
salute to Mademoiselle," suggested some comforting adviser. "No," said the
experienced Marechal de Villeroi, "if Mademoiselle had a hand in it, the
salute was for us." At this, Mazarin comprehended the whole proceeding,
and coldly consoled himself with a _bon-mot_ that became historic. "Elle a
tue son mari," he said,--meaning that her dreams of matrimony with the
young king must now be ended. No matter; the battle of the Porte St.
Antoine was ended also.

There have been many narratives of that battle, including Napoleon's; they
are hard to reconcile, and our heroine's own is by no means the clearest;
but all essentially agree in the part they ascribe to her. One brief
appendix to the campaign, and her short career of heroism fades into the
light of common day.

Yet a third time did Fortune, showering upon one maiden so many
opportunities at once, summon her to arm herself with her father's
authority, that she might go in his stead into that terrible riot which,
two days after, tarnished the glories of Conde, and by its reaction
overthrew the party of the Fronde ere long. None but Mademoiselle dared to
take the part of that doomed minority in the city government, which, for
resisting her own demands, were to be terribly punished on