Madame stood passive. She would have killed this man with laughter on
her lips had a knife been in her hand. He came toward her again. She
strove to put the table between. He laughed, leaping the table
lightly. She fled to the door, but ere she had taken a dozen steps he
was in front of her. The Chevalier heard all these sounds. He prayed
to God to end his miseries quickly.
"One more kiss, and we take the river, you and I. We will find some
outcast priest to ease your conscience. The kisses will not be so
fresh after that."
Far away came a call, but the vicomte did not hear it. He was too busy
feasting his eyes. He had forgotten.
"So be it," he said. "This kiss shall last a full breath. Then we
must be on the way."
A shadow darkened the doorway.
"Monsieur, here is a kiss for you, cold with death."
Madame cried out in joy. The vicomte whirled around, with an oath, his
sword in his hand. Victor, pale but serene and confident, stood
between him and freedom.