All was still again, and I crept softly to the opening. I did not dare look in, but crouched beneath the skylight, waiting for the signal. I had already observed that the skylight was but a light, wooden framework, with a glazing between, and would need no great effort to break down--one strong push and the way was clear before me. So I stayed for a minute of breathless silence, then from far below came a sharp, shrill whistle, hurried exclamations from the plotters, and now the explosion of the petard, that made the house rock to and fro like a tree in the wind. I had no need to force open the skylight. The effect of the explosion did that most effectually for me and blew out the lamps in the room below as well, reducing it on a sudden to absolute darkness. There was a yell of terror from the room, and, without a moment's hesitation, I swung through the window and dropped down amongst the conspirators. They were to a man crowding to the door, and not one took any note of my entrance, so great was their confusion. I followed the rush of hurrying figures as they passed through the door into a passage in dim light from a fire that burned in a small grate. One end of this passage was full of smoke, against which the bright flashes of drawn swords were as darts of lightning. Beyond the smoke and below we could hear the clash of steel, cries of pain, and savage oaths, where men were fighting and dying hard. As I dashed down the passage, sword in hand, my only thought to reach the prisoner's room, one of the retreating figures turned and called out, 'Quick, monseigneur! follow me--the secret stair!' It was Lafin. In the confusion and semi-gloom he had mistaken me for his chief. I made no answer, but, as I rushed forwards, struck him on the face with the hilt of my sword, and he rolled over like a log. Now I was right in amongst the scared plotters, cheek by jowl with M. de Savoye's envoy, and I could have dropped him then and there, but that my whole heart was in Madame's room, and I knew that there were others who could and would deal with him. As I elbowed my way through the press, vainly endeavouring to find the way to my dear's prison, we reached a landing from which a long stair led straight up, and here I heard the Marshal's voice, cracked with rage and fear. 'Lafin! de Gomeron! To me--here! here!' 'Ladies first. Marshal. I must look to my bride.' Then through the smoke I saw de Gomeron's tall figure mounting the stair, and I rushed forward to follow him. It was at this juncture that a portion of our own party forced their way to the landing, and one of them, whose sword was broken, flung himself upon me, dagger in hand, shouting, 'Death to traitors.' I had just time to seize his wrist. He tripped sideways over something that lay very quiet at our feet, and, dragging me down, we rolled over and over, with the clash of blades over us. 'It is I--fool--I, d'Auriac--let go,' I shouted, as he tried to stab at me.