seless to the ground.

The assassins passed over his body; two remained at the second door, and
the remaining two entered the bed-chamber, led on by Maurevel. By the
light of the lamp still burning upon the table, they distinguished the
bed, of which the curtains were closed.

"Oh, ho!" said the lieutenant of the little band, "he has left off
snoring, it seems."

"_Allons, sus!_" cried Maurevel.

At the sound of his voice, a hoarse cry, resembling rather the roar of a
lion than any human accents, issued from behind the curtains, which the
next instant were torn asunder. A man armed with a cuirass, and his head
covered with one of those _salades_, or head-pieces, that come down to the
eyes, appeared seated upon the bed, a pistol in either hand, and his drawn
sword upon his knees. No sooner did Maurevel perceive this figure, and
recognise the features of De Mouy, than he became frightfully pale, his
hair bristled up, his mouth filled with foam, and he made a step
backwards, as though terrified by some horrible and unexpected apparition.
At the same moment the armed figure rose from its seat and made a step
forwards, so that the assailed seemed to be pursuing, and the assailant to
fly.

"Ah! villain," exclaimed De Mouy, in the hollow tones of suppressed fury,
"do on come to kill me as you killed my father?"

The two men who had accompanied Maurevel into the chamber alone heard
these terrible words; but as they were spoken, De Mouy's pistol had been
brought to a level with Maurevel's head. Maurevel threw himself on his
knees at the very moment that De Mouy pulled the trigger. The bullet
passed over him, and one of the guards who stood behind, and who had been
uncovered by his movement, received it in his heart. At the same instant
Maurevel fired, but the ball rebounded from De Mouy's cuirass. Then De
Mouy, with one blow of his heavy sword, split the skull of the other
soldier, and, turning upon Maurevel, attacked him furiously. The combat
was terrible but short. At the fourth pass Maurevel felt the cold steel in
his throat; he uttered a stifled cry, fell backwards, and, in falling,
overturned the lamp. Immediately De Mouy, profiting by the darkness, and
vigorous and active as one of Homer's heroes, rushed into the outer room,
cut down one of the guards, pushed aside the other, and, passing like a
thunderbolt between the two men stationed at the door of the antechamber,
received their fire without injury. He had still