es. At the
first indication of danger, Jeanne had darted away like an arrow into
the house; Claude was to the front trying, but in vain, to reach the
child that was being held up by a pair of strong arms. A few instants
more and Jeanne was back, carrying a chair. Not a pin could drop to the
ground that crowd covered, but the chair did, and, with its aid, the
work of rescue began.

"Get another," she called to Claude, "that one will be broken up
directly," and off she was again. Another minute and she appeared at a
window overlooking the Rue Boissy d'Anglais, brandishing the first thing
she chanced to lay hands upon--a large Turkish sabre. The shy girl with
the red hair, the abject coward, was transformed into a modern Jeanne
d'Arc, mowing the air with the curved blade of the Saracens; a curious
picture, that arrested the attention of the crowd beneath, at a point
some two hundred yards in the rear of the dangerous corner of the Avenue
Gabrielle, thus holding in check for a moment the seething mass of
people who were pressing forward, unconscious of the danger to life and
limb they were creating.

"En arriere!" she cried. "On s'ecrase la bas! Barrez la rue!" An officer
of the Gensdarmerie took in the situation. He backed his horse on the
advancing crowd, orders were given to stop the influx from the Rue du
Faubourg St. Honore, and a catastrophe was averted.

The story of the timely relief of those besieged garden walls rapidly
spread amongst the guests, who were gradually recovering from their
fright. The ladies had ceased shrieking, and had completed the elaborate
process of swooning, and of being brought round by the polite attentions
of the gentlemen; they were now extolling Jeanne's presence of mind.

"My dear," said one old lady, "without you they would have stormed the
house, and with my wretched health, I should not have survived it."

"Yes," added her son-in-law, "single-handed she beat the rabble back.
She ought to have the Legion d'Honneur."

"Take me away," Jeanne said to Claude; "anywhere, into the house."

"Do you mind my stopping with you?" asked Claude, but not till they had
settled on a many-cushioned divan in the coolest and quietest room of
the Embassy.

"Do stop," she said, "to protect me from the rabble. I might not be able
to beat it back single-handed."

Claude thought he had never seen her hair so beautifully untidy before.

* * * * *

"I am sure I said n