He called out, and drew
his sword. I wished not to fight, and I sprang aside; but he made a
pass at me, and I drew my pistol and was about to fire, when another
shot came from the hallway and struck him. He fell, almost at my
feet, and I dashed away into the darkness. Fifty feet ahead I cast
one glance hack, and saw Monsieur Cournal standing in the doorway.
I was sure that his second shot had not been meant for me, but for
the Intendant--a wild attempt at a revenge, long delayed, for the
worst of wrongs.
I ran on, and presently came full upon five soldiers, two of
whom drew their pistols, fired, and missed. Their comrades ran away
howling. They barred my path, and now I fired, too, and brought one
down; then came a shot from behind them, and another fell. The last
one took to his heels, and a moment later I had my hand in that of
Mr. Stevens. It was he who had fired the opportune shot that rid me
of one foe. We came quickly along the river brink, and, skirting
the citadel, got clear of it without discovery, though we could see
soldiers hurrying past, roused by the firing at the chateau.
In about half an hour of steady running, with a few bad stumbles
and falls, we reached the old windmill above the Anse du Foulon at
Sillery, and came plump upon our waiting comrades.
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