‘Hinder me not,’ returned Marie. ‘To the river!’
The Seine flowed but a few steps from the corner of the Place Maubert, and Sainte-Croix doubted not but that, in her desperation of fear and excitement, she would not hesitate to precipitate herself into it from the quay—at that time unguarded by wall or barrier of any kind. He seized her wrist as she was about to descend, and exclaimed hurriedly—
‘Wherever you go, Marie, I go too; even to perdition!’
They flew down the winding stairs, scarcely knowing how they progressed, Sainte-Croix still keeping hold of his companion. In an instant they were at the bottom of the flight, and Gaudin’s hand was glowing like a live coal from the rapid friction of the balusters as they descended; but, frenzied and insensible to the pain, he saw or thought of nothing except the pale and terrified creature in his grasp. As they reached the end of their headlong and impetuous course, Marie could no longer bear up against the whirl of tumultuous passions that agitated her. The struggle had been too intense; her nerves gave way, and she sank, apparently lifeless, on the ground.
The interview between Sainte-Croix and Madame de Brinvilliers, hurried as it had been, was too violent for the sound of their altercation not to reach Theria’s chambers, and the frenzied pair had scarcely reached the bottom of the stairs, when the student was following them, accompanied by the terrified grisette, who was bearing a light. He found Gaudin endeavouring to raise the fainting Marchioness. She had struck her face, in falling, against a projecting portion of the staircase, and was bleeding therefrom; a circumstance which, in the hurry of the instant, Theria attributed to Sainte-Croix. A few hot and hurried words passed on either side, and the next instant their swords were drawn and crossed.
Sainte-Croix, it need scarcely be observed, was a practised swordsman. But he nearly found his match in Camille Theria. The students were at that time most expert in fencing; and Gaudin was somewhat hardly driven by the assaults of his antagonist, who, with more enthusiasm than science, pressed on him, following thrust after thrust so rapidly, that Sainte-Croix was compelled to act on the defensive alone for some seconds. At length the cool calculation of the soldier, unnerved though he had been by the events of the last few minutes, prevailed over the impetuous assaults of his adversary. He allowed Theria to spend his energy in a series of heated attacks, which he put aside with practised skill; until, watching his moment, he made a lunge and thrust his rapier completely through the fleshy part of the sword-arm of the student, whose weapon fell to the ground.
‘I have it!’ cried Camille, as he reeled back against the pillar of the staircase; and stretching out his left hand he caught hold of the hilt of Gaudin’s sword, preventing him from drawing it back again, until, with singular nerve, he allowed the bright blade to be retracted through his quivering muscle.
‘A peace, monsieur; I have it!’ he continued, smiling as he watched the trickling dark stream that followed its withdrawal. ‘But you have not crippled me beyond to-night. Glazer will tell you that the veins will soon close. Had it been a leaping artery, the case would have been different. Clemence, tie my arm round with your handkerchief.’
The grisette, who had been frightened to death during the contest, was now supporting the still senseless Marchioness. Gaudin knelt down and relieved her of her charge, and she immediately bound up Theria’s wound as he had requested, and then, at his command, went back to the chambers upstairs; she evidently lived in complete submission to what he chose to order.
‘So!’ said Camille, ‘that is past. We have met again in an odd fashion, Captain de Sainte-Croix.’