But Beaumagnan’s wound, slight though it was, rendered him incapable of prolonged resistance. He let go the knife. At that very moment Leonard moved his head, opened his eyes, and gazed at the picture before him, the two men half risen, clinging to one another in a fighting attitude, Clarice on her knees. His gaze rested on it several seconds, several terrible seconds, for there was no doubt that, seeing what they were at, he would shoot them down, and rid himself of them. But his open eyes did not see them; they were blinded by the clouds of sleep. His eyelids closed down again over them before the consciousness of what they rested on came to him. Thereupon Ralph cut through the rest of his bonds. He was free. As Clarice rose, trembling, to her feet, he whispered: “Be quick! Escape!” She shook her head and pointed to Beaumagnan. It was plain that she was not going to leave him behind her, a prisoner exposed to the vengeance of Leonard. Ralph protested; but he could not move her. Tiring of the conflict, he handed the knife to Beaumagnan. “She’s right,” he said in a whisper. “One must play fair. Here you are. Free yourself. And afterwards let each look out for himself. What?” He followed Clarice to the window. One after the other, they slipped over the sill. Once in the enclosure, she took his hand and led him to a gap in the wall. He helped her through it. But when he had climbed through it himself, he no longer saw anyone. “Clarice!” he cried. “Where are you?” The wood lay in the darkness of a starless night. He heard a rustling among the undergrowth on his right. He plunged into it in pursuit and ran into tree-trunks and brushes that barred his way. He was compelled to return to the path. “She flies from me,” he said to himself sadly. “When I was a prisoner, she risked everything to free me. Now that I am free, she does not want to set eyes on me again. My treachery, that monster Josephine, and the whole disgusting business have filled her with horror.” As he regained the path, someone came tumbling over the wall. It was Beaumagnan, escaping in his turn. Then of a sudden reports of a revolver banged out from some quarter. Leonard had rushed to the gap and was firing at random into the wood. Ralph made haste to get out of range. So, at about eleven o’clock at night, the three adversaries started from the same point to get to the Queen’s stone, more than thirty miles away. What were their different mean of getting there? Everything depended on that. On the one side were Beaumagnan and Leonard, both of them well provided with confederates, and at the head of powerful organizations. Beaumagnan’s friends must be waiting for him; Leonard had but to get to Josephine; the spoil belonged to whichever was quickest. But Ralph was the youngest and most active. If he had not made the mistake of leaving his bicycle at Lillebonne, every chance would have been in his favor.