Explore "The Trampling of the Lilies" by Rafael Sabatini on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Allons! Marchons! / Qu'un sang impur / Abreuve nos sillons! / -La Marseillaise.
There were roars of anger and screams of terror in the night, and above the Chateau de Bellecour the inky blackness of the heavens was broken by a dull red glow, which the distant wayfarer might have mistaken for the roseate tint of dawn, were it possible for the dawn to restrict itself to so narrow an area.