When the first shock of surprise had passed, and it passed almost immediately, he felt his eyes clear and his nerves steady themselves into a cool and deliberate resolve to die, if needs must, like a valiant fighting man. He realized at a glance the extreme desperateness of the situation, and his very despair gave him courage. His grasp was firm and strong on the hilt of his sword, and the pulses of his blood began to beat steadily. In after days he wondered that it should be so, and like a simple and courageous gentleman, he set it down to no heroism of his own, but to the inspiration and direction of a higher Power. In a moment standing there he knew what had happened. The sentinels had been surprised at their post, the men below had been taken unawares and overpowered without resistance, and the hostelry was completely in the hands of the enemy. For him there was no hope of escape, and he knew he need expect no quarter. Leaping upon the bed, he parried the blows that were dealt at him. Again and again his assailants came surging up, and again and again he cleared the deadly circle round him. Already two or three bodies lay on the floor below him: his sword streamed with blood from the point to the hilt. For a moment there was a pause--his courage and coolness had checked the first rush. Then with a deep oath one of the fellows sprang forward, and caught him round the knees with a grasp that he could not disengage, and another leaping on the bed beside him, sought to wrest the weapon from his hand. He thought that the end was come and that in another minute it would be all over. But he felt his strength the strength of ten. Dealing one of the fellows a tremendous blow fair and straight in the face, he shortened his sword and ran the other through the body; without a sound the man rolled over and fell in a heap on the floor. Again the circle cleared round him and he drew a deep breath. Then there was a sound of rushing water in his ears; the room swam round him; tottering and falling he clung to the wall for support. Through a blinding mist he saw, or dreamt he saw, the gleam of uplifted weapons round him ready to strike, and he wondered that they did not make an end of him; then the tall figure of De Laprade with his rapier drawn, striking up the weapons that were aimed at him; surely, too, that was the voice of the gallant Vicomte?--"What, cowards! would you slay the boy now that he is down, when you could not face him with his sword in his hand? Ah, _sang de Dieu_! you shall not touch him. I command you; I, Victor de Laprade. _Mille de Diables!_ take up these carcases and see if there is any life left in them. He is a gallant gentleman, and you shall not injure a hair of his head."