I shook the thought away--it was absurd to suppose that good could spring from murder and outrage, that light could come from a darkness so revolting. This was not a moment for theories, but for deeds. I must go; I must make a dash for it. I should fall, of course. He could scarcely miss me in that clear light. But the shot would alarm the house, would give its occupants at least a moment to prepare for their defense. That, at any rate, I could accomplish. I gathered myself for the spring. Just ahead of me lay a strip of moonlit lawn--it was there that the peril lay--it was there he would bring me down. And the shot would precipitate the attack. I paused. If there was no alarm at least twenty minutes would be required to post the sentries and to make sure there was no break in the chain. Perhaps there was another and a better way. Perhaps I could leap upon the sentry and bear him down before he could give the alarm. I raised my head cautiously and looked at him again, measuring the distance. He was humming the “Marseillaise,” his thoughts evidently far away, for his eyes were lifted and he was staring absently up at the clear heavens. Had I a dagger I could have struck him down. But I had no weapon; and even had there been a dagger in my hand I doubt if I could have nerved my arm to the blow, so pure, so youthful did he appear at that moment--younger than I. And somehow I understood that there in the sky he saw a face smiling down at him. I shook myself savagely and called myself a fool. Since he had espoused the cause of murderers he must suffer like any other--this was no time to hesitate. Again I measured the distance and noted his abstraction. I would be upon him at a single bound, and, my fingers once at his throat, I knew that he would not cry out. Suddenly, in the shadow back of him I fancied I saw a deeper shadow move. I strained my eyes. Yes!--there it was--another sentinel perhaps, and my heart fell. And yet, why did he advance so slowly, why did he crouch so near the earth? Was it man or beast? Breathlessly I watched it, vague, inchoate, scarce discernible; but the menace of its attitude, the meaning of that slow advance, was unmistakable. A man, undoubtedly, since in Poitou no such bloodthirsty beast of prey existed. But who--who? I glanced again at the sentry’s unconscious face, so pure, so innocent. Should I warn him? Should I---- The shadow stood suddenly erect, a knife flashed in the air, and the sentry fell forward upon the grass, coughing softly. The shadow bent over the prostrate figure, the knife flashed again and the coughing ceased.