And now came vengeance, darting upon him like a bolt from the shining sky. Before his slower senses even knew what was happening, before, encumbered with his prey, he could fire a pistol or draw his sword, Hélène had been snatched from him into Angelot's arms. No leave asked of Ratoneau; a spring and a clutch; it might have been a tiger leaping at the horse's neck and carrying off its victim. The girl screamed again and again, as Angelot set her on the ground, and trembled so that she could not stand alone. As her lover supported her for an instant, saying to Marie Gigot, who ran forward from the horse's head, "Take her--take her home!" Ratoneau fired his pistol straight at the two young heads so near together. The bullet passed actually between them, touching Hélène's curls. Then the sturdy peasant woman threw a strong arm round her, and dragged her away towards La Marinière. Angelot, with a flushed face and blazing eyes, turned to the General, who sat and glared in speechless fury. Then the young fellow smiled, lifted his hat, and set it jauntily on again. He had not drawn his hunting knife, and stood empty-handed, though this and a pair of pistols were in his belt. "And now, Monsieur le Général!" he said, a little breathlessly. Ratoneau stared at him, struck, even at that moment, by his extraordinary likeness to his uncle. There was the same easy grace, the same light gaiety, the same joy in battle and fearless confidence, with more outward dash and daring. Ah, well! as the other insolent life had ended, so in a few minutes this should end. It would be easy--a slip of a boy--it was fortunate indeed, that it happened so. "Mille tonnerres! you can be buried together!" said Ratoneau. "Merci, monsieur, I hope so--a hundred years hence," Angelot answered with a laugh. "You are mistaken--I am not talking of your wife," growled Ratoneau. "She will be a widow in ten minutes, and married to me in a month. I mean that you and your precious uncle can be buried together." "Indeed! Is my uncle going to die?" Angelot said carelessly; but he looked at the madman a little more steadily, with the sudden idea that he was really and literally mad. "He is dead already. I have killed him," said Ratoneau. Angelot turned pale, and stepped back a pace, watching him cautiously. "When? Where? I don't believe it," he said. "We had a disagreement," said Ratoneau. "It was about you that we quarrelled, a worthless cause. He chose to take your part, and to insult me. I ran him through the body."