The grotto was filled with smoke, which the flame of each weapon pierced like a flash of lightning.

The two bands clinched and fought hand to hand, pistols and daggers serving them in turn.

At the noise of the struggle, the gendarmes poured in from the rear--few more demons added to this fight of devils--but the groups of friends and enemies were so confused they dared not fire.

They struggled in the red and lurid atmosphere, fell down and rose again; a roar of rage was heard, then a cry of agony--the death sigh of a man.

The survivor sought another man, and the struggle was renewed.
This work of death lasted fifteen minutes, perhaps twenty.