more critical than that of the generality of the combatants on either side.
On entering the Place du Carrousel by the archway leading from the Quays,
we found the confusion extreme--and, as the fire besides grew every moment
hotter and hotter, I felt the necessity of taking refuge somewhere, and in
my agitation ran forward and sheltered myself under the Triumphal Arch.
Here I passed the short interval during which the combat lasted in a
confusion of all the senses, which extended minutes to months, and gave to
something less than half a quarter of an hour the importance of a century;
for I was all the time between the two fires. Fortunately, as I have said,
the affair did not last very long; and when the victorious rabble at last
rushed into the Tuileries, I followed the general movement, and soon after
found myself in the throne hall, where I was joined by my two missing
friends."

The Count now proceeds to inveigh in general terms against what he
describes as the atrocious conduct of the unruly rabble--the devastation,
pillage, and other enormities of which they were guilty. Having concluded
this diatribe, he goes on with his narrative as follows: "Indeed the
passion of mischief had taken such strong possession of the minds of
all--the temptation was so widely thrown open wherever one went--that even
I felt a touch of the desire; and, as I passed along the library hall,
where a most splendid stock of books had been thrown on the floor, spying
among many precious treasures a beautifully ornamented little volume,
which, to say nothing of its gay appearance, promised to occupy no great
room in the pocket, with the conviction that I was doing a good action, I
picked it up. On opening it I found that it was neither a bible, nor a
poem, nor a _congurare_ (_?_), as I had anticipated, but simply a pocket
memorandum-book in which his Majesty had been accustomed to note his
_parties de chasse_, and the numbers of game he killed. I immediately
thrust it into my pocket, and have since preserved it as a keepsake--but