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Well you see that I am alive." "Yes, and I am glad to know it," replied the monk, resuming his place at the bridle. Melac turned to one of his adjutants: "Give orders to the drivers to go on, and let the soldiers cut down every man that attempts to mount the wagons or withdraw his effects. To get the honey, we must kill the bees.
By Heaven! the life of one miserable monk never was worth a million of treasure!" Did the monk suspect what was passing within the mind of the general? Perhaps he did; for well he knew that he was capable of any amount of atrocity. On they went, sometimes stumbling in the dark, sometimes emerging into the light, until at last they reached the topmost step where Melac halted to breathe.
So saying, Melac put spurs to his horse, and, followed by his staff, approached the wagons, and gave a signal with his sword. The whole train was set in motion, and the horses were urged to the top of their speed. The unhappy victims of this demoniac stratagem gave one simultaneous shout of indignation. Those nearest the wagons strove to clutch at them with their hands.
The monk mean while bent over the prostrate forms that lay in hundreds upon the marble pavement, and so absorbed was he in soothing their last moments, that he almost started as the rough voice of General Melac reached him from the opposite end of the nave. "Come, come," cried he, in thundering tones. "Enough of useless sentimentality!"
"Very well; I believe you are right," said Melac, a little disturbed. "Station yourself at my rein, then." At that moment there was a general wail, and many a voice was lifted up in one last effort to soften the heart of their persecutor. Those who prefer to remain, are allowed to deposit their effects in the cathedral, and to guard them in person.
"Let two companies of infantry occupy the market-place," said Melac. "Let four cannon be stationed at the entrances of the four streets leading to the cathedral. For four hours the people shall be allowed to enter with their chattels. At the end of this truce, two more companies of infantry shall be ordered hither, one of which shall surround the cathedral, the other march inside.
There was no answer to this inquiry, but neither was there any change in the aspect of the officers. "General Feuquiere," cried Melac, "you are not usually reticent; pray, let us hear your opinion of my mode of warfare." "I cannot approve of cruelty," replied Feuquiere, bluntly.
Some few were within the cathedral walls, some were lying, their ghastly faces upturned to heaven, and those who had survived were wandering across their blasted fields, bereft of kindred and home, houseless, hungry, and almost naked. General Melac glanced at the cathedral porch. That, too, was empty and still. "I wonder whether our men have done their work over there?" said he.
"No mercy shall be given you," said Melac, who, turning to General Montelas, remarked, "What an advantage I have over you! I know their language, and can understand all their expressions of grief! It is a comic litany!" "Demon, I will repay thee!" muttered the monk. And, coming close to the general's horse, he laid his hand upon the rein. "What do you mean, sirrah?" cried Melac.
"Yes, general, and as there is but one way to reach it, I resume my proper place, and follow you, as in duty bound." Melac began to ascend the stairs, the monk coming behind him, with an aspect the very opposite of that he had endeavored to maintain all day.
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