"Victorin!" I cried horrified, believing myself the sport of a frightful nightmare. "It was he--I killed him!" "The husband!" exclaimed Kidda, the Bohemian, leaping back. "It must be the devil that brought him back!" And she vanished. Immediately afterwards I heard the sound of a cart's wheels and the clinking of the bell of the mule that drew it rapidly away, while from another direction, from the quarter of the camp, I heard a distant roar that drew steadily nearer and resembled the hubbub of a tumultuous mob. My stupor was followed by a distressful agony lighted by a faint ray of hope--perhaps Ellen was not dead. I ran to the inside chamber; it was closed from within. I knocked and called Sampso at the top of my voice. She answered me from another room, in which she had been locked up. I set her free, crying aloud: "I struck Ellen with my sword in the dark--the wound may not be mortal;--run for the druid Omer--" "I shall run to him on the spot," answered Sampso without asking me any questions. She rushed to the house door which was bolted from within. As she opened it I saw a mob of soldiers advancing over the square where my house was situated and which was close to the entrance of the camp. Several soldiers carried torches; all uttered loud and threatening cries in which the name of Victorin constantly recurred. I recognized the veteran Douarnek at the head of the mob. He was brandishing his sword. "Schanvoch," he cried the moment he recognized me, "the rumor has just run over the camp that a shocking crime was committed in your house!" "And the criminal is Victorin!" cried several voices drowning mine. "Death to the infamous fellow!" "Death to the infamous fellow, who violated the wife of his friend!" "Just as he violated the wife of the tavern-keeper on the Rhine, who killed herself in despair." "The cowardly hypocrite pretended to have mended his ways!" "To dishonor a soldier's wife! The wife of Schanvoch, who loved the debauché as if he were his own son!" "And who, moreover, saved his life in battle!" "Death! Death to the wretch!" I found it impossible to dominate the furious cries with my voice; Sampso vainly sought to cross the crowd. "For pity's sake, let me pass!" Sampso implored them. "I wish to fetch a physician druid. Ellen still breathes; her wound may not be mortal! Let me bring her help!" Her words only served to redouble the indignation and fury of the soldiers. Instead of opening a passage for my wife's sister, they drove her back as they crowded towards the door. A compact and enraged mass stood there brandishing their swords, shaking their fists and vociferating: "Death! Death to Victorin!" "He slew Schanvoch's wife after doing violence to her!" "She has died as the tavern-keeper's wife on the Rhine!" "Victorin!" thundered Douarnek. "You will not this time escape punishment for your crimes!" "We shall be your executioners!" "Death! Death to Victorin!"