At their approach the fire of the second courtyard ceased. A sign was made to them that they might approach; and they accordingly advanced, slipping on the ensanguined pavement, striding over carcasses, and holding out their hands to the wounded.
Under this protection the people form themselves into groups. The dead bodies and the wounded are carried out of the fortress; the blood alone remains, marbling with large purple spots the pavement of the courtyard.
The fire from the fortress had ceased. Billot was leaving it, in order to stop that of the besiegers. At the door he meets Gonchon,—Gonchon, altogether unarmed, exposing himself like one inspired, calm, as if he were invulnerable.
“Well,” inquired he of Billot, “what has become of the deputation?”
“It has gone into the fortress,” replied Billot; “order our men to cease firing.”
“It is useless,” said Gonchon, “they will not consent.”
“That matters not,” rejoined Billot; “it is our duty to make the attempt. Let us respect the usages of war, since we have become soldiers.”
“Be it so,” said Gonchon.
Then, addressing himself to two men in the crowd, who appeared to command under him the whole of the assembled mass,—
“Go, Elie,—go, Hullin,” said he, “and see that not a musket—shot be fired.”
The two aides—de—camp rushed out, and, obeying the orders of their chief, pressed through the crowded masses, and soon the firing of the musketry diminished, and then ceased altogether.
A momentary quiet was established. Advantage was taken of it to attend to the wounded, the number of whom had already amounted to thirty—five or forty.
During this respite the prison clock struck two. The attack had begun at noon; the combat had already lasted two hours.
Billot had returned to his post, and it was Gonchon in his turn who followed him.
His eyes were turned anxiously towards the gate. His impatience was visible.
“What is the matter with you?” inquired Billot.
“The matter is,” replied Gonchon, “that if the Bastille is not taken within two hours from this time all is lost.”
“And why so?”
“Because the court will be informed of the work we are about, and will despatch the Swiss to us, under Besenval, and Lambesq’s dragoons; so that we shall then be caught between three fires.”
Billot was compelled to acknowledge that there was some truth in what Gonchon was saying.
At length the deputies reappeared. From their countenances it was evident they had obtained no concession.
“Well,” cried Gonchon, whose eyes sparkled with delight, “what did I tell you? Things that are predicted must happen. The accursed fortress is condemned!”
Then, without waiting even to put a question to the deputation, he sprang out of the first courtyard, crying,—
“To arms, my children!—to arms! The commandant refuses.”
And, in fact, the governor had scarcely read the letter from Flesselles, when his countenance brightened; and instead of acceding to the proposals which had been made to him, he exclaimed,—
“Gentlemen Parisians, you have insisted on a battle: and now it is too late to speak of treating.”
The bearers of the flag of truce persisted in urging their suit. They represented to De Launay all the evils which his defending the castle might entail; but he would not listen to them, and he concluded by saying to the deputation what he had said two hours before to Billot,—
“Leave the fortress, or I will have you shot.”
And the bearers of the flag of truce were compelled to depart.
On this occasion it was De Launay who resumed the offensive. He appeared burning with impatience.
Before the deputies had reached the gate of the courtyard, the Musette of Marshal Saxe played a tune, and three persons fell,—one of them dead, two others wounded.
One of the wounded was a French Guard; the other, one of the deputies.
On seeing a man whose office should have rendered him sacred, carried forth covered with blood, the crowd became more enraged than ever.
Gonchon’s two aides—de—camp had returned to their places at his side; but each of them had had time to go home to change his dress.
It is true that one of them lived near the arsenal, the other in the Rue de Charonne.