Bras d’Acier recoiled at the unexpected obstruction, and, throwing Louise off, raised a long heavy pistol fitted with a snaphaunce—a cheap modification of the wheel-lock, much used by the marauders of the period—and discharged it at the aperture whence the blocks had tumbled. The report caused a few more lumps to fall from the ceiling, and when the smoke cleared off, the upper part of a man’s body appeared at the opening.
‘If that is one of Colbert’s blood-scenters, I have winged him,’ said Bras d’Acier.
‘Not yet,’ said the stranger, smashing the wall on either side and scrambling into the vault; ‘not yet, mes braves. Pheugh! I was obliged to knock a long time before you let me in!’
‘Benoit!’ cried Louise, as she recognised our friend of the boat-mill, and flew towards him. ‘What good angel brought you here?’
‘No better one than yourself, ma belle,’ replied the Languedocian. ‘So,’ he continued, looking around him, and perfectly undismayed by the threatening looks of Bras d’Acier; ‘this is an odd place for gallant officers, like M. Gaudin, to give appointments at or receive visitors!’
‘Where are your fellows?’ asked Lachaussée.
‘Oh, I’m alone,’ replied Benoit. ‘What should I want with fellows?’
‘To bury you if we blow your brains out,’ returned Bras d’Acier.
‘Do it,’ said Benoit, drawing Louise towards him with one arm, whilst with the other he carelessly dug a bit of gypsum from the wall with his iron spike, and kicked it towards them. ‘Do it; and to-morrow my little wife, Bathilde, will go to the Préfet with a note from me, ordering a search for Louise and M. Lachaussée there, and telling him where there will be a chance of finding me.’
‘How came you here?’ asked Lachaussée fiercely.