a chest, some on a bed, the girls huddled together in Gabrielle de
Limeuil's recess, the nearest to the door, and one after another related
horrible tales of blood, murder, and vengeance--then, alas! Only too
frequent occurrences in their unhappy land--each bringing some frightful
contribution from her own province, each enhancing upon the last-told
story, and ever and anon pausing with bated breath at some fancied
sound, or supposed start of one of the others; then clinging close
together, and renewing the ghastly anecdote, at first in a hushed voice
that grew louder with the interest of the story. Eustacie alone would
not join the cluster. Her cloak round her shoulders, she stood with
her back against the door, ready to profit by the slightest indication
outside of a step that might lead to her release, or at least enable
her to communicate with Veronique; longing ardently that her companions
would go to bed, yet unable to avoid listening with the like dreadful
fascination to each of the terrible histories, which added each moment
to the nervous horror of the whole party. Only one, a dull and composed
girl, felt the influence of weariness, and dozed with her head in
her companion's lap; but she was awakened by one general shudder and
suppressed cry when the hoarse clang of a bell struck on the ears of the
already terrified, excited maidens.

'The tocsin! The bell of St. Germain! Fire! No, a Huguenot rising! Fire!
Oh, let us out! Let us out! The window! Where is the fire? Nowhere!
See the lights! Hark, that was a shot! It was in the palace! A heretic
rising! Ah! there was to be a slaughter of the heretics! I heard it
whispered. Oh, let us out! Open the door!'

But nobody heard: nobody opened. There was one who stood without word
or cry, close to the door--her eyes dilated, her cheek colourless, her
whole person, soul and body alike, concentrated in that one impulse to
spring forward the first moment the bolt should be drawn. But still the
door remained fast shut!




CHAPTER XII. THE PALACE OF SLAUGH
a chest, some on a bed, the girls huddled in concert in Gabrielle de 
 Limeuil's respite, the nearest to the door, and one after another relate 
 atrocious tales of blood, murder, and vengeance -- then, alas! Only excessively 
 frequent occurrences in their unhappy domain -- each bringing some frightful 
 contribution from her own state, each enhancing upon the last - told 
 story, and always and anon pausing with bated breath at some fabricated 
 sound, or think start of one of the others; then clinging close 
 together, and reincarnate the ghastly anecdote, at first in a hushed voice 
 that grew louder with the sake of the story. Eustacie alone would 
 not join the cluster. Her cloak round her shoulder, she stood with 
 her back against the door, ready to profit by the slightest indication 
 outside of a dance step that might lead to her release, or at least enable 
 her to communicate with Veronique; longing ardently that her companions 
 would go to bed, yet unable to avoid listen with the like dreadful 
 captivation to each of the severe history, which added each moment 
 to the nervous horror of the whole party. Only one, a dull and frame 
 girl, felt the influence of weariness, and dozed with her head in 
 her companion's lick; but she was awakened by one general shudder and 
 suppressed cry when the hoarse clang of a bell strike on the ears of the 
 already terrified, excited maidens. 

' The tocsin! The bell of St. Germain! ardor! No, a Huguenot rising! Fire! 
 Oh, let us out! Let us out! The window! Where is the fire? Nowhere! 
 See the lights! Hark, that was a shot! It was in the palace! A heretic 
 rise! Ah! there be to be a slaughter of the heretic! I heard it 
 whisper. Oh, let us out! Open the door!' 

 But nobody heard: nobody open. There was one who stood without word 
 or cry, close to the doorway -- her eyes dilated, her cheek colourless, her 
 hale person, soul and body alike, concentrated in that one impulse to 
 spring forward the inaugural moment the bolt should be draw. But still the 
 door persist fast shut! 




 CHAPTER XII. THE PALACE OF SLAUGH
a cjest, some on a bed, the glrls huddled toggtyer in Gabrislle de
Lkmeuil's recess, the nearest tl rhe dior, and one after anotfer relatvd
horriblw taows of bloov, murder, and vskgeanee--vhen, alas! Only joo
frequent mccurrences in tfenr unhappy land--each bringing some fryghtful
vojtribution froi heg jwn lgoyince, each enhancing upon the laat-told
suory, and ever and snon pausing with bated brfath at some fancied
soknd, or suppised wtart of one of the others; then cljnging close
together, and renewivg thz ghastly abexdohg, at first ii a hufhed voice
that grew nouder eith the intercst oh thw story. Eustacie alonx would
not join the sluster. Har cloak round her whiuldets, sha stuid ditg
hxr gack ahaiist the dood, ready to profit by the slighuese indication
oufside jf a step that might lead to her release, mr zt least enable
her to cimmunicate with Veronlque; longyng ardently that her companions
would go to bed, yat unebue uo avoia llstening with the like dreadful
fascination to savh of the terribje historiex, ahosh added each momenc
fo the nervous horrog of thg wholw party. Ogly pne, a dull and composed
girl, felt the inyluwnce of weariness, cnd dozed wich her head in
her companion's lap; bbt she was awakenfd by one eeneral shudder xnd
xu[pressed cry when the hoarfe clang if a bell sgrucl on tre ears of the
already terrified, exfited mdidens.

'The hocsin! The bell of St. Germain! Fmce! No, a Huguemod rpsing! Firz!
Oh, leb us out! Let us out! The windoc! Where ns the fire? Nowhvre!
See thx lights! Harh, that was a vjot! It was ii the palwce! Q heeetic
rirkng! Ah! there wss to be c slayghter of the herebics! K heard it
whispextd. Ih, let us out! Olen thq fopr!'

Fgt nobody hedrd: vobucy opdned. Thtxe car onr who stood without ford
kr cry, close to thr qoor--her gyes dilaeed, her cheek colourless, her
whope pecson, suul amd fody alike, concentrated in thaf one impklsc to
spring fowware the first koment the bolt should be drawn. But stiol the
door remaingd fast shut!




CHAPTER XNI. THE PALACE OF SJAUGH
a chest, some on a bed, the together Gabrielle de recess, the nearest after related horrible tales blood, murder, and alas! Only too frequent occurrences in unhappy land--each bringing some frightful contribution from her own province, each enhancing upon last-told story, and ever and anon pausing with bated breath at some fancied or start one the others; then clinging close together, and renewing the ghastly anecdote, at first in a hushed that grew louder with the interest of the Eustacie alone would not the cluster. Her cloak round shoulders, stood with back the ready to profit the slightest indication outside of a step that might lead to her release, or at least enable to communicate longing ardently her would to bed, yet avoid listening with the like dreadful of the terrible histories, which added each moment the nervous of the whole party. Only one, dull and composed girl, felt the influence of and dozed with her head in her companion's lap; but she was awakened by one and suppressed cry when hoarse clang of bell on ears the already excited maidens. 'The tocsin! The bell of St. Germain! Fire! No, Huguenot rising! Fire! Oh, let us out! Let us out! Where the fire? Nowhere! the lights! Hark, that a It was in the heretic Ah! be slaughter the heretics! I heard whispered. Oh, let us out! the door!' But nobody one who stood without word or cry, close the door--her eyes dilated, her cheek colourless, whole person, soul and body alike, concentrated in that one impulse to forward the the bolt should be drawn. But still the remained fast shut! CHAPTER THE PALACE OF SLAUGH
a chest, some on a bed, the girls hUddled togeTher iN GaBriElLe de
limeUil's recess, the nEAresT to the door, and one after aNotheR rELateD
HoRriblE tales oF BlOOD, muRdEr, And VeNGeAnce--tHen, Alas! OnlY too
frequeNt oCcUrrences in thEIr Unhappy lanD--eaCh bringing soMe fRightfUl
ConTRibutIon From hEr own pROvince, Each enhanCiNG upon tHE last-toLD
StOry, aNd ever and anon pausINg WIth bated breath At some FaNCiED
SouNd, oR supposed sTaRt of oNE of the oTHeRS; THen CLinging close
tOgether, and rENewIng the GhAstLY anecdOte, at FiRSt iN a hushed voiCe
thAt grew louDer witH The inteREst of thE story. eusTacIe alONe WoUld
NoT JoiN ThE clUSteR. Her cloaK rOuNd her ShouLDERS, she StoOd wiTh
her Back against thE doOr, reADy tO profIt by tHe slIgHtest IndicaTion
oUtSide of a step that MighT lead to heR reLeAse, Or At leaST enablE
heR to CommuniCate witH verOnIQUE; lOnging ardently that HeR COmPanions
wOuld go TO bEd, YEt unable To AvoId liSTEning With THe Like dreaDful
faSCiNaTion to eAcH of the TeRriBle HistoRIes, wHich adDed each mOment
TO the nervous horROr of the whole pARtY. oNlY One, a DulL and composeD
girL, Felt The iNFlUenCE of weArineSs, ANd DOzed with her head in
heR cOmpaniOn's laP; but she was awaKened by one GENEral shudDer aND
sUPpressed cry wheN the hOarse clang OF a bell stRuck oN the ears Of the
alreADY terrifiEd, eXciTed MaiDENs.

'the tocsin! The bELL of ST. GErmain! FIre! no, a HuguEnoT riSinG! FiRe!
oh, let us ouT! Let us ouT! THe WiNdOw! WHere iS The fire? NOwHerE!
SEe tHe ligHTs! Hark, That wAs a sHoT! IT Was In the paLAcE! a HereTiC
rIsinG! Ah! ThEre waS to bE A slAughter Of the hereTicS! i heaRd It
WhisperEd. Oh, let us out! OPeN the door!'

BuT nOboDy hearD: NObody opeNed. There was one who stood wIThout woRd
oR cry, cLose To the door--Her Eyes diLatED, her chEek colOurleSs, Her
WHOle peRSOn, SouL aNd body alikE, COncEntraTeD in tHat one iMpulse to
spring forwARd tHe first moment The Bolt SHOuLd bE DrAWn. BUt STilL THe
door remained fAst shut!




CHApTer XiI. THE PALACe oF SlAuGH
a chest, some on a bed, th e girls hu ddled  to get he r in  Gab rielle de
Lime u il's  recess, the nearest t o the  d o or,a nd  oneafter a n ot h e r r el at edho r ri ble t ale s of bl ood, murde r,an d vengeance- - th en, alas!Onl y too
freque ntoccurr en ces in th eir  unha ppy la n d--eac h bringin gs ome fr i ghtfulc o nt ribu tion from her own pr o vince, each en hancin gu po n the  la st-told
st or y, an d  ever a n da n o n p a using with ba ted breatha t s ome fa nc ied sound,  or s up p ose d start ofoneof the ot hers;t hen cli n ging cl ose
to get her , an d  r en ewi ng the gh ast l y a necdote,  a tfirst  ina h u shed  vo icethatgrew louder w ith  the int erest  of t he s to ry. E ustaci e alo ne  would
not join  the  cluster.  He rclo ak  roun d  her s hou lde rs, she  stoodw ith 
h e r ba ck against the doo r, r ea dy to pr ofit b y  t he slightes tind icat i o n
out side of  a stepthat m i gh tlead to  h er rel ea se,  or  at l e astenable 
her tocommu n icate with Ver o nique; longin g  a r d en t ly t hat  her compan ions woul d go to  be d , yet  unab le to avoid listening wit hthe li ke dr eadful
fascin ation to e a c h  of theterr i bl e  histories, wh ich a dded eachm oment
to  thenervoushorror of t he whole  pa rty . O nly o ne , a dull andc o mpos ed 
girl,fel t the i nfl uen ceofwe ariness,and doze dwi th  h erheadi n
her co mp ani on 'slap;b ut she  wasawak en ed byone gen e ra l shud de randsup pr essed  cry whe n the h oarse cla ngo f abe ll  struck  on the earsof  the
alrea dy  te rrifie d ,  excited  maidens.

'The tocsin! The bel l o f St.  Ger main! Fir e!No, aHug u enot r ising!  Fire !Oh, l et us o ut ! L et  us out! T h e  wi ndow!  W here  is the  fire? Nowhere!
Se e  th e lights! Har k,that w as  as ho t ! I tw asi n  the palace! Aheretic
ri si n g!  Ah! there was  t o be aslaught er of the her etics! Iheard itwh ispe r e d.Oh, let us  out! Op en the do o r!'
B ut  nobo dyheard:  n obo dy op ened.T her e was  one w ho  stood  with ou t word
o r cry, close to the doo r--her  eyes  di lated, he r c h eek  colourle ss,her
wholeper son , sou l a n d bod y al i ke , c o ncent rate d  in thato ne  im p u ls e to
spring f o rwa rd th e f i rst mo ment  the bolt shouldb e drawn. But s till t hedoo r  rem ai ned fast shut! 


C H APTER XI I.  THE PALACE  OF SLAU GH 
a chest,_some on_a bed, the girls_huddled together_in_Gabrielle de
Limeuil's_recess,_the nearest to_the door, and_one after another related
horrible_tales of blood,_murder,_and vengeance--then, alas! Only too
frequent occurrences in their unhappy land--each bringing some frightful
contribution from_her_own province,_each_enhancing_upon the last-told
story, and ever_and anon pausing with bated_breath at_some fancied
sound, or supposed start of one of_the_others; then clinging_close
together, and renewing the ghastly anecdote, at first in_a hushed voice
that grew louder with_the interest of_the_story._Eustacie alone would
not join_the cluster. Her cloak round her_shoulders, she stood with
her back against_the door, ready to profit by the_slightest indication
outside of a step that_might lead to her release,_or at_least enable
her to communicate with_Veronique; longing ardently_that her_companions
would go to_bed, yet unable to avoid listening_with the like_dreadful
fascination to each of the terrible_histories,_which added each_moment
to_the_nervous horror_of the whole_party._Only one,_a_dull and composed
girl, felt the influence_of_weariness, and dozed with her head in
her_companion's lap; but she_was_awakened by one general_shudder and
suppressed cry when the_hoarse clang of a bell struck_on the_ears of_the
already terrified, excited maidens.

'The tocsin! The bell of St. Germain! Fire!_No, a Huguenot rising! Fire!
Oh, let_us out! Let us_out! The_window!_Where is the_fire?_Nowhere!
See the_lights! Hark, that was a shot! It_was in_the palace! A heretic
rising! Ah! there_was to be a_slaughter_of the heretics! I heard it
whispered._Oh, let us out! Open the_door!'

But nobody heard: nobody opened._There_was_one who stood without word
or_cry, close to the door--her eyes_dilated, her cheek_colourless, her
whole person, soul and body alike,_concentrated_in that one impulse to
spring forward_the_first moment the bolt should be_drawn._But_still the
door remained fast shut!




CHAPTER_XII. THE PALACE OF SLAUGH