“Softly,” I whispered. “Softly. We must surprise him, or he will outwit us yet. Give him an instant’s warning, and he might hold us off till aid arrived. We must take no chances.” “As you will,” he answered sullenly, and I saw he was hot to be at Roquefort as was I. I crouched low into the shadow of the battlement, and, motioning Fronsac to follow, stole slowly forward. As we drew near I saw that Roquefort still held the girl by the arm. “You will listen to reason,” he was saying roughly. “Not to-morrow but the next day shall you be wedded. I will provide the man--and while he may not be a beauty, I am sure he will love you as you deserve. There is no way out, Mademoiselle, I swear it. I am not like to permit such a pretty bird to slip through my fingers.” She was looking at him now with defiant eyes. It was easy to see that the spirit of M. le Comte lived in her also. “You are wasting words, Monsieur,” she said quite coldly. “I have already told you my determination,” and she made a little gesture towards the cliff. “A leap and it is over. Think you I should hesitate when I knew that on the other side lay a life-time of infamy? You do not know me, Monsieur!” Roquefort laughed harshly. “’Tis easy said, but not so easy done,” he retorted. “Death is not pleasant when one looks it in the face. Besides, I shall take care of you. I shall see that this pretty flesh be not wasted in such a way. Some man must have it to wife first!” I heard a low cry of rage behind me, and Fronsac leaped past me and upon this libertine. I saw Roquefort wheel sharp round at the sound of footsteps, but Fronsac was upon him ere he could draw his sword. The musket flashed in the air, but the other stepped lightly to one side and the blow fell harmless. Then I was upon him too. Oh, but he was a man!--a match for both of us almost. I struck at his throat to drown the cry I knew would come, but he caught my wrist and held it in a grasp of iron. I felt him turning the point towards my breast, and struck madly at his face; then Fronsac’s musket rose again, there was a sickening blow, and his grip upon my wrist relaxed. For a breath he stood staring wildly into my eyes, then slipped limply down at my feet upon the parapet. “He is done!” panted Fronsac. “Curse him! He is done!” “Yes,” I said. “Yes,” and looked down at him. But my friend had turned towards the figure which stood sobbing softly against the wall. “Valérie!” he called, and I saw her sway forward into his arms with a little answering cry. No more I saw, for I turned my back, as I would have others do when I meet my love after long absence and many perils. Yet I could spare them but a moment. “We must go,” I said, and touched Fronsac gently on the arm. “Come, Monsieur. For love you have a hundred to-morrows, but for escape only to-night.” He swung around upon me, and I could see how his eyes were shining.