I thus
turned my back towards La Chatre.
Frojac saw me and waved in response, as he dashed down the moonlit way
towards the road to Fleurier.
I heard a stealthy noise behind me, and, turning, saw what made me
fiercely repent my momentary forgetfulness and my reliance on the
governor's lameness. The sight revealed plainly enough what new idea had
come into La Chatre's mind,--simply that, if he should give the signal
for mademoiselle's death, I would probably not stay to attack him, but
would instantly rush into the next chamber in the hope of saving her. He
could then fasten the door, and so hold me prisoner in that chamber until
the return of his troops. Well for us that he had not thought of this
before the arrival of Frojac!
He was already near the table on which was the tray, when I turned and
saw him. He raised his stick to strike the tray. I rushed after him.
He brought down his stick. The tray sounded, loud and bell-like. He heard
me coming, and raised his stick again. The second clang would be the
death-knell of my beloved!
But my sword was in time, my arm served. The blade met the descending
stick and knocked it from the governor's grasp. The same rush that took
me between La Chatre and the table carried me across the chamber to a
spot at one side of the door which Montignac at that moment threw open.
"You struck once, did you not, monsieur?" said Montignac, not seeing me,
for he naturally looked towards the centre of the chamber.
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