"Wait, wait!" said the innkeeper, taking aim.
"Oh, yes, wait," cried Coconnas, "and meantime he will escape."
And he rushed after the unhappy wretch, whom he soon overtook, as he was wounded; but at the moment when, in order that he might not strike him behind, he exclaimed, "Turn, will you! turn!" the report of an arquebuse was heard, a bullet whistled by Coconnas's ears, and the fugitive rolled over, like a hare in its swiftest flight struck by the shot of the sportsman.
A cry of triumph was heard behind Coconnas. The Piedmontese turned round and saw La Hurière brandishing his weapon.
"Ah," he exclaimed, "I have handselled this time at any rate."
"And only just missed making a hole quite through me."
"Be on your guard!—be on your guard!" cried La Hurière.
Coconnas sprung back. The wounded man had risen on his knee, and, eager for revenge, was just on the point of stabbing him with his poniard, when the landlord's warning put the Piedmontese on his guard.
"Ah, viper!" shouted Coconnas; and rushing at the wounded man, he thrust his sword through him three times up to the hilt.
"And now," cried he, leaving the Huguenot in the agonies of death, "to the admiral's!—to the admiral's!"