A carriage was brought out, and the
Chancellor with his brother and daughter was put into it, but as they
were driving off the mob rallied again and began to pursue them. A
shot was fired, and a poor woman, under a heavy basket, fell. There
was another outburst of curses, screams, howls, yells, shots; and
carriage, guards, people, all rushed past us, the coach going at the
full speed of its six horses, amid a shower of stones, and even
bullets, the guards galloping after, sometimes firing or cutting with
their swords, the people keeping up with them at a headlong pace,
pelting them with stones and dirt, and often firing at them, for,
indeed, the poor young Duchess received a wound before they could
reach the palace. Meanwhile others of the mob began ransacking the
Hotel de Luynes in their rage at the Chancellor's escape, and they
made dreadful havoc of the furniture, although they did not pillage
it.
My mother wept bitterly, declaring that the evil days she had seen in
England were pursuing her to France; and we could not persuade her
that we were in no danger, until the populace, having done their
worst at the Hotel de Luynes, drifted away from our street. Eustace
could not of course bear to stay shut up and knowing nothing, and he
and the Abbe both went out different ways, leaving us to devour our
anxiety as best we could, knowing nothing but that there was a chain
across each end of our street, with a double row of stakes on either
side, banked up with earth, stones, straw, all sorts of things, and
guarded by men with all manner of queer old weapons that had come
down from the wars of the League.
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