And he struck his sword so forcibly against the stones that sparks flew out.
At this instant shouts were heard in the hôtel—then several shots—then a great shuffling of feet and a clashing of swords, and then all was again silent.
The duke was about to rush into the house.
"Monseigneur, monseigneur!" said Du Gast, detaining him, "your dignity commands you to wait here."
"You are right, Du Gast. I must stay here; but I am dying with impatience and anxiety. If he were to escape me!"
Suddenly the noise of feet came nearer—the windows of the first floor were lighted up with what seemed the reflection of a conflagration.
The window, to which the duke's eyes had been so many times lifted, opened, or, rather, was shattered to pieces, and a man, his pale face and white neck stained with blood, appeared on the balcony.
"Ah! at last, Besme!" cried the duke; "speak! speak!"
"Louk! louk!" replied the German coldly, and stooping down he lifted up something which seemed like a heavy body.
"But where are the others?" asked the duke, impatiently, "where are the others?"