He remembered that two doors away was a narrow passage, which leaving the
Rue St. Honore turned at right angles under a beetling archway, to emerge
in the Rue du Roule. If he could gain that passage unseen by the mob! He
would gain it. With a swift movement, his mind made up, he took a step
forward. He tightened his grasp of the girl's waist, and, seizing with
his left hand the end of the bar which the assailants had torn from its
setting in the window jamb, he turned to lower himself. One long step
would land him in the street.
At that moment she awoke from the stupor of exaltation. She opened her
eyes with a startled movement; and her eyes met his.
He was in the act of stepping backwards and downwards, dragging her after
him. But it was not this betrayed him. It was his face, which in an
instant told her all, and that he sought not death, but life! She
struggled upright and strove to free herself. But he had the purchase of
the bar, and by this time he was furious as well as determined. Whether
she would or no, he would save her, he would drag her out. Then, as
consciousness fully returned, she, too, took fire.
"No!" she cried, "I will not!" and she struggled more violently.
"You shall!" he retorted between his teeth. "You shall not perish here."
But she had her hands free, and as he spoke she thrust him from her
passionately, desperately, with all her strength. He had his one foot in
the air at the moment, and in a flash it was done. With a cry of rage he
lost his balance, and, still holding the bar, reeled backwards through
the window; while Mademoiselle, panting and half fainting,
recoiled--recoiled into the arms of Hannibal de Tavannes, who, unseen by
either, had entered the room a long minute before. From the threshold,
and with a smile, all his own, he had watched the contest and the result.