Monsieur du Breuil, at a sign from Coligny, using his hands as a speaking-trumpet, imitated distinctly the cry of the osprey. Then a deathly silence followed. The admiral and his companions stood as if made of stone, their ears on the alert, and their hearts heating fast. Suddenly a musket-shot was heard in the direction from which the cry had come; and almost at the same moment there was a general discharge, accompanied by sharp cries and a terrible uproar. The first detachment was discovered. "A hundred brave men gone already!" cried the admiral. He came rapidly down from the boulevard, remounted his horse, and without another word rode in the direction of the Boulevard St. Martin, where he expected another part of Vaulpergues's company. There he was seized again with the same anguish of soul. Gaspard de Coligny at this moment resembled a gambler who has staked his fortune upon three casts of the dice: the first cast was lost; what luck awaited him in the second? Alas! the same cry was heard outside the ramparts, and the same answer made from the town; then, as if this second scene were merely a fatal repetition of the first, a sentinel gave the alarm again, and the rattle of musketry and the heart-rending shrieks told the terrified people of St. Quentin that a second combat--say rather, a second butchery had occurred. "Two hundred martyrs!" said Coligny, in a grief-stricken voice. And again throwing himself upon his horse, in two minutes he was at the postern of the faubourg, which was the third of the posts agreed upon between Gabriel and himself. He rode so quickly that he was the first man on the rampart; and his officers joined him there one by one. But listen as eagerly as they might, they could hear nothing but the groans of the dying in the distance and the shouts of the victors. The admiral thought that all was lost. The enemy's camp was aroused. There could not be a Spanish soldier who was not awake now. He who was in command of the third party might well have thought best not to march right upon such deadly peril, and had probably withdrawn without hazarding a blow. Thus the third and last throw had failed the ruined gambler. Coligny kept saying to himself that very probably the last detachment had been surprised with the second, and that the noise of the two massacres had been combined.