There was the rushing clank of hoofs on the drawbridge, then from the courtyard rose a confused turbulence of horses, men, and arms. Again my weapons clashed with Montignac's. Julie looked swiftly around. Her eye alighted on the dagger that lay on one of the chairs. She drew it from its sheath. "If we die, it is together!" she cried, holding it aloft. There came a deadened, thumping sound, growing swiftly to great volume. It was that of men rushing up the stairs. "To the rescue!" cried La Chatre. "But one more parry, Montignac!" There was now a thunder of tramping in the hall outside the door. "Ay, one more--the last!" It was I who spoke, and the speech was truth. I leaped upon my enemy, between his dagger and his sword, and buried my dagger in his neck. When I drew it out, he whirled around, clutched wildly at the air, caught the curtain at the window, and fell, with the quick, sharp cry: "God have mercy on me!" "Amen to that!" said I, wiping the blood from my dagger. A terrible pounding shook the door, and from without came cries of "Open." Mademoiselle ran to my side, her dagger ready for her breast. I put my left arm around her. "And now, God have mercy on _you_!" shouted La Chatre, triumphantly; for the door flew from its place, and armed men surged into the chamber, crowding the open doorway. "Are we in time, my captain?" roared their leader, looking from the governor to me. And La Chatre tottered back to the fireplace, dumbfounded, for the leader was Blaise and the men were my own. Julie gave a glad little cry, and, dropping her dagger, sank to her knees exhausted. "Good-night, monsieur!" I said to La Chatre. "We thank you for your hospitality!" CHAPTER XVIII. THE RIDE TOWARDS GUIENNE I ordered the men to return to the courtyard, and, supporting Julie, I followed them from the chamber, leaving M. de la Chatre alone with his chagrin and the dead body of his secretary. In the hall outside the governor's chamber, we found Jeannotte and Hugo, for Blaise had brought them with him, believing that we would not return to Maury. The gypsies had accompanied him as far as Godeau's inn, where we had first met them. He had even brought as much baggage and provisions as could be hastily packed on the horses behind the men. The only human beings left by him at Maury were the three rascals who had so blunderingly served De Berquin, but he had considerately unlocked the door of their cell before his departure. I begged mademoiselle to rest a while in one of the chambers contiguous to the hall, and, when she and Jeannotte had left us, I told Blaise as much of the truth as it needed to show mademoiselle as she was. I then explained why he had found the draw-bridge down, the gate open, the chateau undefended. He grinned at the trick that fate had played on our enemies, but looked rather downcast at the lost opportunity of meeting them at Maury.