I remember that the crash of my unlucky fall seemed to release all the prisoned noises of the house.A faint scream within the room was but a prelude,lost the next moment in the roar of dismay,the clatter of weapons,and volley of oaths and cries and curses which,rolling up from below,echoed hollowly about me,as the startled knaves rushed to their weapons,and charged across the flags and up the staircase.I had space for one desperate effort.Picking myself up,I seized the stool by two of its legs and dashed it twice against the door,driving in the panel I had before splintered.But that was all.The lock held,and I had no time for a third blow.The men were already halfway up the stairs.In a breath almost they would be upon me.I flung down the useless stool and snatched up my sword,which lay unsheathed beside me.So far the matter had gone against us,but it was time for a change of weapons now,and the end was not yet.Isprang to the head of the stairs and stood there,my arm by my side and my point resting on the floor,in such an attitude of preparedness as I could compass at the moment.
For I had not been in the house all this time,as may well be supposed,without deciding what I would do in case of surprise,and exactly where I could best stand on the defensive.The flat bottom of the lamp which hung outside the passage threw a deep shadow on the spot immediately below it,while the light fell brightly on the steps beyond.Standing in the shadow I could reach the edge of the stairs with my point,and swing the blade freely,without fear of the balustrade;and here I posted myself with a certain grim satisfaction as Fresnoy,with his three comrades behind him,came bounding up the last flight.
They were four to one,but I laughed to see how,not abruptly,but shamefacedly and by degrees,they came to a stand halfway up the flight,and looked at me,measuring the steps and the advantage which the light shining in their eyes gave me.
Fresnoy's ugly face was rendered uglier by a great strip of plaister which marked the place where the hilt of my sword had struck him in our last encounter at Chize;and this and the hatred he bore to me gave a peculiar malevolence to his look.
The deaf man Matthew,whose savage stolidity had more than once excited my anger on our journey,came next to him,the two strangers whom I had seen in the hall bringing up the rear.Of the four,these last seemed the most anxious to come to blows,and had Fresnoy not barred the way with his hand we should have crossed swords without parley.
'Halt,will you!'he cried,with an oath,thrusting one of them back.And then to me he said,'So,so,my friend!It is you,is it?'
I looked at him in silence,with a scorn which knew no bounds,and did not so much as honour him by raising my sword,though Iwatched him heedfully.
'What are you doing here?he continued,with an attempt at bluster.
Still I would not answer him,or move,but stood looking down at him.After a moment of this,he grew restive,his temper being churlish and impatient at the best.Besides,I think he retained just so much of a gentleman's feelings as enabled him to understand my contempt and smart under it.He moved a step upward,his brow dark with passion.
'You beggarly son of a scarecrow!'he broke out on a sudden,adding a string of foul imprecations,'will you speak,or are you going to wait to be spitted where you stand?If we once begin,my bantam,we shall not stop until we have done your business!
If you have anything to say,say it,and--'But I omit the rest of his speech,which was foul beyond the ordinary.
Still I did not move or speak,but looked at him unwavering,though it pained me to think the women heard.He made a last attempt.'Come,old friend,'he said,swallowing his anger again,or pretending to do so,and speaking with a vile bonhomie which I knew to be treacherous,'if we come to blows we shall give you no quarter.But one chance you shall have,for the sake of old days when we followed Conde.Go!Take the chance,and go.We will let you pass,and that broken door shall be the worst of it.That is more,'he added with a curse,'than I would do for any other man in your place,M.de Marsac.'
A sudden movement and a low exclamation in the room behind me showed that his words were heard there;and these sounds being followed immediately by a noise as of riving wood,mingled with the quick breathing of someone hard at work,I judged that the women were striving with the door--enlarging the opening it might be.I dared not look round,however,to see what progress they made,nor did I answer Fresnoy,save by the same silent contempt,but stood watching the men before me with the eye of a fencer about to engage.And I know nothing more keen,more vigilant,more steadfast than that.
It was well I did,for without signal or warning the group wavered a moment,as though retreating,and the next instant precipitated itself upon me.Fortunately,only two could engage me at once,and Fresnoy,I noticed,was not of the two who dashed forward up the steps.One of the strangers forced himself to the front,and,taking the lead,pressed me briskly,Matthew seconding him in appearance,while really watching for an opportunity of running in and stabbing me at close quarters,a manoeuvre I was not slow to detect.
