There was no time for us to pause.  A woman’s scream from in front—­a scream of mortal terror—­told us that even now we might be too late.  There were two other men in the hall, but they cowered away from our drawn swords and furious faces.  The blood was streaming from Duroc’s neck and dyeing the grey fur of his pelisse.  Such was the lad’s fire, however, that he shot in front of me, and it was only over his shoulder that I caught a glimpse of the scene as we rushed into the chamber in which we had first seen the master of the Castle of Gloom.

The Baron was standing in the middle of the room, his tangled mane bristling like an angry lion.  He was, as I have said, a huge man with enormous shoulders; and as he stood there, with his face flushed with rage and his sword advanced, I could not but think that, in spite of all his villainies, he had a proper figure for a grenadier.  The lady lay cowering in a chair behind him.  A weal across one of her white arms and a dog-whip upon the floor were enough to show that our escape had hardly been in time to save her from his brutality.  He gave a howl like a wolf as we broke in, and was upon us in an instant, hacking and driving, with a curse at every blow.

I have already said that the room gave no space for swordsmanship.  My young companion was in front of me in the narrow passage between the table and the wall, so that I could only look on without being able to aid him.  The lad knew something of his weapon, and was as fierce and active as a wild cat, but in so narrow a space the weight and strength of the giant gave him the advantage.  Besides, he was an admirable swordsman.  His parade and riposte were as quick as lightning.  Twice he touched Duroc upon the shoulder, and then, as the lad slipped on a lunge, he whirled up his sword to finish him before he could recover his feet.  I was quicker than he, however, and took the cut upon the pommel of my sabre.

‘Excuse me,’ said I, ‘but you have still to deal with Etienne Gerard.’

He drew back and leaned against the tapestry-covered wall, breathing in little, hoarse gasps, for his foul living was against him.

‘Take your breath,’ said I.  ‘I will await your convenience.’

‘You have no cause of quarrel against me,’ he panted.

‘I owe you some little attention,’ said I, ’for having shut me up in your store-room.  Besides, if all other were wanting, I see cause enough upon that lady’s arm.’

‘Have your way, then!’ he snarled, and leaped at me like a madman.  For a minute I saw only the blazing blue eyes, and the red glazed point which stabbed and stabbed, rasping off to right or to left, and yet ever back at my throat and my breast.  I had never thought that such good sword-play was to be found at Paris in the days of the Revolution.  I do not suppose that in all my little affairs I have met six men who had a better knowledge of their weapon.  But he knew that I was his master.  He read death