Plouernel was fairly cornered. He could not think of escaping by the window and the roof--one movement by Victoria would send him rolling to the street below. To break down the door was no less perilous; the two speakers in the garret, and soon all the inhabitants of the house, would run to the young woman's call. And, finally, to attempt to kill her was an expedient as fraught with danger as the other two. He would have to brave two shots at close range and by a sure hand. Victoria sat down in such a manner as to place her worktable between herself and the Count, and keeping the pistol still in her hand, said: "Count of Plouernel, you are the head of one of those families which have the honor of tracing their origin back to the early times of conquest. The further you go back in the centuries the more crimes you take to your account, and the more terrible should be the punishment reserved to you. The representatives of these families will pay, like you, Neroweg, Count of Plouernel, the debt of blood." Victoria was uttering these words in a voice of fierce exaltation when her brother John, who had another key to the door, suddenly entered. His sister's last words to Plouernel fell upon his ear. The Count, at the unexpected apparition of the young artisan, fell back defiantly, and involuntarily clapped his hand again to his dagger. "John, lock the door," cried Victoria quickly. "This man's name is Neroweg, Count of Plouernel!" The Count put on a bold front, and said, in an attempt to brazen it out with the young workman, who, he knew, shared the sentiments of his sister with regard to the sons of Neroweg: "Go on, citizen, do your business as purveyor of the scaffold." Unmoved by the insult, John cast a cold look in the Emigrant's direction and said to his sister: "How comes the fellow here?" "He was evidently fleeing from the men sent to arrest him. He climbed to the roof of the next house, and forced his way in by breaking the window." "So," said John to the Count, "you are an Emigrant, and denounced? They want you for judgment?" "The marauder has the impudence to question me!" answered the Count with a burst of sardonic laughter. "A switch for the rascal!" "Count of Plouernel," returned John Lebrenn imperturbably, "I am of a different opinion from my sister on the nature of the punishment to be meted out to you. The Revolution, in abolishing royalty, nobility and clergy, has already chastised the crimes of the enemies of the people: The evil your race has done to ours is expiated. Count of Plouernel, the conquered have taken their revenge upon the conquerors, the nation has re-entered upon her sovereignty. The Republic is proclaimed; justice is done!" "Blood of God!" exclaimed Plouernel, "the beggar has the insolence to grant me grace in the name of the people!"