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Such grace as was visible in it, made it the uglier, showing how

warped and perverted all things good by nature were become. The

maidenly bosom bared to this, the pretty almost-child's head thus

distracted, the delicate foot mincing in this slough of blood and

dirt, were types of the disjointed time.

This was the Carmagnole. As it passed, leaving Lucie frightened

and bewildered in the doorway of the wood-sawyer's house, the

feathery snow fell as quietly and lay as white and soft, as if it

had never been.

"O my father!" for he stood before her when she lifted up the

eyes she had momentarily darkened with her hand; "such a cruel,

bad sight."

"I know, my dear, I know. I have seen it many times. Don't be

frightened! Not one of them would harm you."

"I am not frightened for myself, my father. But when I think of

my husband, and the mercies of these people--"