One of the chairs was overturned.
They passed on to the bed-chamber.
A frightful disorder appeared in this room. There was not an
article of furniture, not an ornament, which did not betray that a
terrible, enraged and merciless struggle had taken place between
the assassins and their victims. In the middle of the chamber a
small table was overturned, and all about it were scattered lumps
of sugar, vermilion cups, and pieces of porcelain.
"Ab!" said the valet de chambre, "Monsieur and Madame were taking
tea when the wretches came in!"
The mantel ornaments had been thrown upon the floor; the clock,
in falling, had stopped at twenty minutes past three. Near the
clock were the lamps; the globes were in pieces, the oil had been
spilled.
The canopy of the bed had been torn down, and covered the bed.
Someone must have clutched desperately at the draperies. All the
furniture was overturned. The coverings of the chairs had been
hacked by strokes of a knife, and in places the stuffing protruded.
The secretary had been broken open; the writing-slide, dislocated,
hung by its hinges; the drawers were open and empty, and everywhere,
blood--blood upon the carpet, the furniture, the curtains--above
all, upon the bed-curtains.
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