When they had no more enemies before them, they riddled the facade of the Mule-Blanche with bullets.

The shutters flew into splinters; one window which had been left half-open was torn out, and there was a loud rattle of broken glass.

Pitiful voices were crying out from within; "The prisoners! The prisoners!" But the troops did not hear; they continued firing.

All at once Commander Sicardot, growing exasperated, appeared at the door, waved his arms, and endeavoured to speak.

Monsieur Peirotte, the receiver of taxes, with his slim figure and scared face, stood by his side.