"Fly!" cried he, "fly, while you have the chance!"

"Is it the soldiers?" asked Pillot.

"No, worse! Conde's ragam.u.f.fins, and they are yelling for M. de Lalande."

At these words I was speechless with amazement, but Pillot cried, "The people? Conde's mob, did you say, Francois? Then there has been treachery. This is Peleton's work; he wishes to find revenge and safety at one time. Unbind the prisoner, Pierre. Quick, you dolt! I am no murderer, as M. Peleton will find. Monsieur, I give you a chance of your life let what will come of it. Francois, a sword! Here, monsieur, this way, and the saints preserve us!"

I was free and armed: the door was open; yet I had never stood so near death since my first coming to Paris. From the terrible uproar one would have concluded that the inhabitants of every alley in the city had gathered outside. The street door was being smashed by heavy blows, and, as I ran out on the landing, a fierce mob swarmed up the stairs, screaming, yelling, and shouting for De Lalande.

There was no time to ask questions or even to think. Carried away by pa.s.sion, the people were thirsting for my blood, though why, I could not imagine. Was this a part of the plot too? What did it all mean?

No one had ever called me a coward, but at that moment my limbs trembled, and perspiration oozed from every pore. The cries of the mob were more awful than the roar of some savage beast.

"Quick!" cried Pillot, "it is an affair of seconds," and then every sound was drowned in a fierce shout of "Where is he? Death to the a.s.sa.s.sin! Kill them all!"

"No, no," exclaimed one voice, louder than the rest, "the others may be honest folk! Only one came in. I saw him! I shall know him! You can tell him by his gay dress!"

"That is Peleton, the scoundrel!" said Pillot "If you are killed now, he will be safe," and the dwarf hurried me along.

With bull-dog courage Pierre and Francois stood at the head of the stairs, demanding to know why their house was invaded, and denying that any one had recently entered.

"A lie! A lie!" shouted Peleton from lower down. "I chased him all the way, and saw him enter here!"

"Stand aside," commanded a second man, "and let us search the house, or it will be the worse for you!"

Pierre and Francois were both st.u.r.dy fellows, but they could not have held the stairway long, and besides, why should they sacrifice their lives for me?

From where we were the mob was out of sight, and we could not perceive what was going on, but it seemed as if they hesitated, when suddenly the cry of "The soldiers" was raised. Then, making his final effort, Peleton urged the mob on with renewed shouts of "Kill the a.s.sa.s.sin!"

At the end of the pa.s.sage three steps led down to a room, the door of which was locked, but Pillot possessed the key. We could hear the crowd rushing up the stairs and on to the landing; another moment and we should be too late, but my companion, who had recovered from his nervousness, succeeded in opening the door.

"The window!" he exclaimed, pushing me forward. "Quick! I will put up the bars and follow."

CHAPTER XVI.

I become a Prisoner of the Bastille.

I ran across the room and then stopped suddenly: it was a cowardly action to leave the man to face my enemies alone!

"Fly, monsieur, fly!" he implored.

"Not I, Pillot, until we can go together. You have stood by me, I will stand by you. The bars are up? Good! That will delay them a moment.

Can we move this chest? Take one end and we will try. _Ma foi!_ 'twill be quite a war of the barricades! Now this table. 'Tis heavy!

So much the better. Here they come!"

With a roar the mob swept along the landing. Our door, which was strong and ma.s.sive, withstood for a time their heaviest blows.

"Now, monsieur, the window!" cried Pillot; "the barricade will soon be down. This way. _Peste!_" and he uttered a groan.

In the excitement he had forgotten, and I had not noticed, that the window was barred.

"We have trapped ourselves, M. de Lalande!" he exclaimed bitterly.

"There is no way out!"

"Chut! The bars will break," said I, clambering to the ledge, and grasping the middle one; but it was very thick and firmly fixed.

The roar of the mob outside doubled my energy; I pulled and tugged with all my might, skinning my hands in the effort. Hammer, bang, crash!

behind me. How long would our defences stand? Would the soldiers arrive in time? Would the bar never loosen? Surely it was giving!

Yes! I could have shouted aloud in triumph--it was yielding! Another wrench would be sufficient! Oh, for the strength of twenty men! Now!

A yell of joy and a groan of despair announced that I was too late.

The door was down, the table overturned, the room was filled with the howling mob. They were headed by two men, one dressed as a charcoal-burner, the other as a mason. Each, however, carried a good sword, and in spite of their disguises I recognised them as Maubranne and Peleton.

"There he is!" cried the baron pointing to me, and again the appalling shouts of "Kill the a.s.sa.s.sin!" were raised.

For these poor deluded people, led away by such scoundrels, I felt only a deep pity, but my anger rose hot against Maubranne and Peleton. Why did they call me a.s.sa.s.sin? Why endeavour to take my life and to blacken my good name at the same time?

At the last pinch Peleton hung behind, but the baron, who did not lack courage, advanced, and the mob followed with a hideous roar. Do not imagine that I wish to set myself up for a hero. At that terrible moment I had no thought of anything, and what I did was done almost unconsciously.

Maubranne came first, while behind him waved a forest of clubs and staves. I saw in his eyes that he intended to kill me, and, rendered desperate by fear, I leaped at him, plunging my sword into his breast.

He dropped heavily, and for the moment an intense hush fell on the startled crowd. As if by inspiration I saw my one chance and seized it eagerly.

"Citizens!" I cried, gazing boldly on the sea of angry faces, "that man lied to you. He is no charcoal-burner, but the Baron Maubranne, Conde's bitterest enemy. I am ignorant of what has happened in Paris.

Two nights ago this Maubranne set a trap for me and shut me up here."

"That is true," exclaimed Pillot. "Maubranne was the plotter, this lad is innocent; he does not even guess why you wish to kill him!"

Would they believe? Was it possible? My heart almost ceased beating as I gazed at the fierce faces. The weapons were lowered. Staring at each other dubiously, the men hesitated, and I breathed more freely. I had forgotten Peleton, who, safe behind the human screen, cried savagely, "Kill the murderer! Down with the a.s.sa.s.sin!"

That served his purpose better than the finest argument. Heated by pa.s.sion the people thought no more of the dead charcoal-burner but only of his slayer, and made a movement to surround me. My last hope had failed, but I stood on guard, my one regret being that the cowardly Peleton would not trust himself within reach of my sword.

Now, however, another sound mingled with the shouts of the populace, and a swift glance showed that the soldiers were forcing a pa.s.sage into the crowded room.

"Make way there!" exclaimed the leader in a tone of authority. "In the King's name! Drop that pike, you rascal, or I'll run you through.

Where is this M. de Lalande?"

At first it appeared certain that there would be a terrible conflict between the mob and the soldiers, but the officer, by a lucky hit, not only saved my life--at least for the time--but cajoled the crowd into good humour.

"Is this the fellow who slew Conde?" he asked, to which came an answering chorus of "Yes, yes! Down with the murderer!"

Until that moment I had no idea what my supposed crime was, and the officer's question filled me with horror. Conde dead! and I charged with murder! It seemed monstrous, impossible. But the officer was speaking, and I must try to understand.

"Do you want all who were in the plot punished?" and again there broke out an a.s.senting yell.

"Then let me remove this lad, you imbeciles! If you knock him on the head now, it will be all over: while, if he is imprisoned, the authorities will soon discover his accomplices."