We had reached the head of the stairs when I drew a sharp breath, and Raoul uttered a cry of anger. The scene was lit up by the flare of torches, and Pillot's shrill laugh came floating up to us. At the same moment we heard Henri's mocking voice, and there, sword in hand, stood my cousin, barring our path. Below him were several brawny ruffians, bearing pikes and clubs, and, last of all, Pillot, who shouted with good-humoured banter, "Aha! the wheel has turned again, monsieur!" Henri affected to treat the matter as a joke, saying, "Chut! Albert, did you not know Peleton was my guest? I cannot allow him to leave at this hour! The night air is not good for him. Return to your room, M. Peleton, my cousin will accept your excuses." "A truce to this farce," I cried. "Will you let us pass peacefully?" "Certainly. You can come down, but I cannot part with M. Peleton just yet. I enjoy his society too much." "We shall not leave without Peleton," I cried. "Then you will not go at all. I am sorry, there is no help for it." He kept his temper admirably, but none the less I felt that if we were to get past, it would be by force of arms, so, raising my voice, I called to Armand and Humphreys who were still keeping guard at the foot of the stairs. In an instant they came bounding up, and Henri, polite to the last, exclaimed, "As you will, cousin, but remember I am not to blame." The next instant we were in the thick of the fight. By the accident of position Raoul was opposed to Henri; Pillot, with three companions, disputed the way with our friends below, while three others rushed fiercely at me. One, advancing too hurriedly, ran himself on the point of my sword, but the others pressed their assault so savagely that I had much ado to preserve my head from being battered in. Once during the melee my foot slipped, and I was brought to my knees. A short, thick-set man, whom I dimly recognised as Pierre, stood over me with his club raised for striking. I saw him swing the weapon round so as to deliver a sturdier blow, when, with a howl of pain he let the club fall. "Jump up, De Lalande! Where's our man? Ah, there he is! Get him between us and we will make a rush for it." The speaker was John Humphreys, who had gallantly fought his way to my side, and was now keeping a clear space with his sword. Peleton stood just above us, shivering with fear, and I must admit that his position was far from pleasant. His arms were still bound, so that he could not ward off a blow, and one brawny ruffian was making desperate efforts to reach him. Suddenly there arose a terrible cry, sending a thrill of fear to our hearts. The staircase was on fire! Armand called to us to descend quickly; Pillot screamed to his master. My assailants, thoroughly cowed, beat a hasty retreat, Raoul and Henri alone, undisturbed by the cries, continued the deadly fight. "Run, Humphreys," I cried, "and do not let this fellow slip away when he reaches the bottom."