It was impossible not to feel for him at such a moment, and
Mademoiselle came kindly up to him, took his hand, and was able to
assure him that things were better than he thought, and that M. de
Clinchamp was only two doors off, and in no danger.
He composed himself a little, thanked her passionately, swallowed
down some wine, begged her to remain at hand, then rushed off again
to endeavour to save his friends, now that the retreat was opened to
them. Indeed, we heard that M. de Turenne said it seemed to him that
he did not meet one but twelve Princes of Conde in that battle, for
it seemed as if he were everywhere at once.
We could only see into the street from the house where we were, and
having received some civil messages from the Governor of the
Bastille, Mademoiselle decided on going thither. The Governor turned
out the guard to salute Mademoiselle, and at her request conducted us
up stone stair after stone stair in the massive walls and towers.
Now and then we walked along a gallery, with narrow doors opening
into it here and there; and then we squeezed up a spiral stone stair,
never made for ladies, and lighted by narrow loopholes. In spite of
all the present anxiety I could not help shuddering at that place of
terror, and wondering who might be pining within those heavy doors.
At last we came out on the battlements, a broad walk on the top of
the great square tower, with cannon looking through the embrasures,
and piles of balls behind them, gunners waiting beside each.
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