heard the handle of a door savagely twisted.

"Open the door! In God's name, what's the matter?" cried a voice--the
voice of Black Michael himself.

He was answered by the very words I had written in my letter.

"Help, Michael--Hentzau!"

A fierce oath rang out from the duke, and with a loud thud he threw
himself against the door. At the same moment I heard a window above my
head open, and a voice cried: "What's the matter?" and I heard a man's
hasty footsteps. I grasped my sword. If De Gautet came my way, the Six
would be less by one more.

Then I heard the clash of crossed swords and a tramp of feet and--I
cannot tell the thing so quickly as it happened, for all seemed to come
at once. There was an angry cry from madame's room, the cry of a wounded
man; the window was flung open; young Rupert stood there sword in hand.
He turned his back, and I saw his body go forward to the lunge.

"Ah, Johann, there's one for you! Come on, Michael!"

Johann was there, then--come to the rescue of the duke! How would he
open the door for me? For I feared that Rupert had slain him.

"Help!" cried the duke's voice, faint and husky.

I heard a step on the stairs above me; and I heard a stir down to my
left, in the direction of the King's cell. But, before anything happened
on my side of the moat, I saw five or six men round young Rupert in
the embrasure of madame's window. Three or four times he lunged with
incomparable dash and dexterity. For an instant they fell back, leaving
a ring round him. He leapt on the parapet of the window, laughing as he
leapt, and waving his sword in his hand. He was drunk with blood, and he
laughed again wildly as he flung himself headlong into the moat.

What became of him then? I did not see: for as he leapt, De Gautet's
lean face looked out through the door by me, and, without a second's
hesitation, I struck at him with all the strength God had given me, and
he fell dead in the doorway without a word or a groan. I dropped on my
knees by him. Where were the keys? I found myself muttering: "The keys,
man, the keys?" as though he had been yet alive and could listen; and
when I could not find them, I--God forgive me!--I believe I struck a
dead man's face.

At last I had them. There were but three. Seizing the largest, I felt
the lock of the door that led to the cell. I fitted in the key. It was
right. The lock turned. I drew the door close behind me and locked it as
noiselessly as I could, puttin