But, just as he was leaving the inn for that purpose, what was Pilette’s consternation on beholding a party of men come tearing up the road, headed by none other than Defrêne in person, to an accompaniment of shouts and the waving of swords and firearms! Taking to his heels, the defenceless Pilette fled incontinently down the village street pursued by the Marquis and his gang with musket-shots and imprecations. Fortunately, he continued to elude them and to make his way to the castle of Count Scarampo, to whom he gave warning of what was going forward in the village. The Count, nothing loath, at once called out his own men and rushed down to the village to do battle for the lady with her husband and his retainers; in this he was joined by the local magistrate, and so the two with their supporters reached the little inn, whence a piteous din of shrieks and blows came out into the roadway. Having abandoned the pursuit of Pilette, Defrêne had returned hot-foot to the inn, which he had invaded in search of his wife; in spite of the host’s protests, he had forced his way to where Marie-Elizabeth was cowering in a back room and had set upon her with a cudgel as well as with his fists and feet; had it not been for the timely arrival of Scarampo and the judge, moreover, there can be small doubt but that the tiger-hearted Marquis would have made an end, then and there, of the miserable woman. Providentially, though, their coming prevented this, when, seeing that resistance was useless, Defrêne submitted to their arrest of him. For the time being, Marie-Elizabeth was safe from her husband’s cruelty. Taken by Count Scarampo to his castle, she was there received by the Countess, as the chronicle relates, “with much compassion and with a distinguished politeness.” Here she was rejoined by Pilette, under whose escort she set out before dawn of the next day on the road to Turin. Such was her condition, however, as the result of the ill-treatment she had suffered, that, by evening, she had gone no further than Alba, a town on the Tanaro, where she sought out the governor and threw herself upon his protection against any further attempts on the part of her detestable husband. The official kindly took her into his own house; but scarcely had he done so than her pursuer, having escaped from his gaolers at Cortemiglia, turned up, on foot and alone, at Alba, in his latest character—that of a penitent and broken-hearted suppliant for his wife’s forgiveness. In this new rôle he presented himself before the governor, begging for an interview with Marie-Elizabeth, that he might soften her heart with the sight and the sighs of him.