“Oh, a sword!” cried Quelus; and, bounding like a tiger on Antragues, he threw his arms round him.
Antragues struck him with his dagger again and again, but Quelus managed to seize his hands, and twisted round him like a serpent, with arms and legs. Antragues, nearly suffocated, reeled and fell, but on the unfortunate Quelus. He managed to disengage himself, for Quelus’ powers were failing him, and, leaning on one arm, gave him a last blow.
“Vive le r——” said Quelus, and that was all. The silence and terror of death reigned everywhere.
Antragues rose, covered with blood, but it was that of his enemy.
D’Epernon made the sign of the cross, and fled as if he were pursued by demons.
Chicot ran and raised Quelus, whose blood was pouring out from nineteen wounds.
The movement roused him, and he opened his eyes.
“Antragues,” said he, “on my honor, I am innocent of the death of Bussy.”
“Oh! I believe you, monsieur,” cried Antragues, much moved.
“Fly!” murmured Quelus; “the king will never forgive you.”