church spire shining dimly
above it. Pat continued the _memoires intimes_ of Jacques and
Jacqueline.

"And the cradle," I asked, "that famous cradle built for two--what has
become of it? Doubtless it exists no more."

"But it is there," he cried warmly. "Angelique said it was in the way,
but I persuaded her to keep it. You see, perhaps we might need
it--what? Ha, ha, that would be droll. But anyway it is good for the
twins to put their dolls to sleep in. It is a cradle so easy to rock.
You do not need to touch it with your hand. It goes like this."

He put out his right foot with its _botte sauvage_, the round toe
turned up, the low heel resting on the ground, and moved it slowly
down and up as if it pressed an unseen rocker.

"_Comme ca, m'sieu'_," he said. "It demands no effort, only the
tranquillity of soul. One can smoke a little, one can sing, one can
dream of the days to come. That is a pleasant inn to stay at--the Sign
of the Cradle. How many good hours I have passed there--the happiest
of my life--I thank God for them. I can never forget them."

A crash as of sudden thunder--a ripping, rending roar of swift,
unknown disaster--filled the air, and shook the quiet houses around
our Lady of the Victories with nameless terror. After it, ten seconds
of thrilling silence, and then the distant sound of shrieking and
wailing. We sprang to our feet, trembling and horror-stricken.

"It is in the Rue Champlain," cried Pat. "Come!"

We darted across the square, turned a corner to the right, a corner to
the left, and ran down the long dingy street that skirts the foot of
the precipice on which the Citadel is enthroned. The ramshackle
houses, grey and grimy, huddled against the cliff that frowned above
them with black scorn and menace. High against the stars loomed the
impregnable walls of the fortress. Low in the shadow crouched the
frail habitations of the poor, the miserable tenements, the tiny
shops, the dusky drinking-dens.

The narrow way was already full of distracted people--some running
toward us to escape from danger--some running with us to see what had
happened.

"The Gray Mill," gasped my comrade; "a hundred yards farther--come
on--we must get there at all hazards! Push through!"

When we came at last to the place, there was a gap in the wall of
houses that leaned against the cliff; a horrible confusion of
shattered roofs and walls hurled across the street; and above it an
immense scar on the face of