At last, when the time came, he took his hat and went down. But, when he reached the ground-floor, Angelique burst from her rooms and exclaimed, with a distraught air: "I say ... if you don't mind ... I think you had better...." And then, without saying more, she went in again, leaving a vision of irresponsible terror in her husband's mind. "She's out of sorts," he said to himself. "Marriage doesn't suit her." He lit a cigarette and went out, without attaching importance to an incident that ought to have impressed him: "Poor Angelique! This will all end in a divorce...." The night outside was dark, with a cloudy sky. The servants were closing the shutters of the castle. There was no light in the windows, it being the duke's habit to go to bed soon after dinner. Lupin passed the gate-keeper's lodge and, as he put his foot on the drawbridge, said: "Leave the gate open. I am going for a breath of air; I shall be back soon." The patrol-path was on the right and ran along one of the old ramparts, which used to surround the castle with a second and much larger enclosure, until it ended at an almost demolished postern-gate. The park, which skirted a hillock and afterward followed the side of a deep valley, was bordered on the left by thick coppices. "What a wonderful place for an ambush!" he said. "A regular cut-throat spot!" He stopped, thinking that he heard a noise. But no, it was a rustling of the leaves. And yet a stone went rattling down the slopes, bounding against the rugged projections of the rock. But, strange to say, nothing seemed to disquiet him. The crisp sea-breeze came blowing over the plains of the headland; and he eagerly filled his lungs with it: "What a thing it is to be alive!" he thought. "Still young, a member of the old nobility, a multi-millionaire: what could a man want more?" At a short distance, he saw against the darkness the yet darker outline of the chapel, the ruins of which towered above the path. A few drops of rain began to fall; and he heard a clock strike nine. He quickened his pace. There was a short descent; then the path rose again. And suddenly, he stopped once more. A hand had seized his. He drew back, tried to release himself. But some one stepped from the clump of trees against which he was brushing; and a voice said; "Ssh!... Not a word!..." He recognized his wife, Angelique: "What's the matter?" he asked. She whispered, so low that he could hardly catch the words: "They are lying in wait for you ... they are in there, in the ruins, with their guns...." "Who?" "Keep quiet.... Listen...." They stood for a moment without stirring; then she said: "They are not moving.... Perhaps they never heard me.... Let's go back...." "But...." "Come with me." Her accent was so imperious that he obeyed without further question. But suddenly she took fright: "Run!... They are coming!... I am sure of it!..." True enough, they heard a sound of footsteps.