ould not move.

Why had not Aube heard this noise? We will return to the lower floor.

Robeccal was disgusted when he saw Francine go up-stairs. He felt that
the ground was cut from under his feet, and that he was to lose the
reward he had been promised. He stole partly up the stairs and listened.
He went on, and when the quarrel burst out and he saw the knife in the
hand of the Vicomte, he rushed down the stairs, and summoned the men at
the table, who were on the watch for a signal from him.

Aube had heard Francine's cry and ran to her aid, but two of the men
summoned by Robeccal stood before the door.

"Let me pass!" cried Aube.

"Softly, good sir," was the reply. "Don't meddle in what does not
concern you."

Furious at being thus braved in his own establishment, Aube thrust the
men aside, but was driven back by repeated blows.

He turned to his customers.

"Gentlemen!" he cried, "they are insulting a poor girl up-stairs. Help
me to save her; it is the Marquise--the singer!"

A number of men started up at this appeal.

The two bandits stood on the stairs with knives in their hands, and feet
and hands ready to repel any one who attempted to ascend the stairs.

"Help! Murder!" shouted Aube.

Women screamed, and clung to the arms of their husbands to prevent them
from taking part in the contest. Others, less courageous, threw bottles
and glasses at the scoundrels who promptly returned them.

In the meantime, Arthur had thrown Frederic on the floor. Fernando
endeavored to separate them, but they were no more amenable to reason
than if they had been wild beasts.

Pale and trembling, Francine leaned against the wall. Robeccal went to
her.

"Mademoiselle," he said, "this is not my fault. Why did you come up
here?"

"Why did I?" she repeated in agony.

"I got you into this trouble unintentionally, and now I must get you
out!"

She did not distrust him, she was too good for that.

"Follow me!" said Robeccal. "I know a way into the street. No one will
see you."

Arthur and Frederic were still fighting; the tumult below had not
decreased.

Robeccal took the girl's hand, and led her to the door which opened into
the private apartments of Aube. They passed through these until they
reached another flight of stairs. Down these the girl ran, closely
followed by Robeccal. They went out through a narrow alley. Suddenly,
Francine heard a whistle, and she was seized, a handkerchief over her
head stifled her