His breast dilated; there was a something in the imploring voice that told him that his adversary was half vanquished.
He stepped forward, put out his hands and met the young man's clasped in supplication; he had not the strength to cry out, but heaved a pitiful sigh.
Suddenly the galloping of a horse was heard beneath the window; there was a hurried knocking at the door, followed by a great outcry.
"M. le Baron de Canolles!" a voice shouted.
"Ah! God, I thank thee! I am saved!" murmured the viscount.
"The devil take the beast!" exclaimed Canolles; "couldn't he have waited until to-morrow morning?"
"M. le Baron de Canolles!" cried the voice. "M. le Baron de Canolles! I must speak with him on the instant."
"Well, what's the matter?" said the baron, stepping toward the window.
"Monsieur! Monsieur!" called Castorin at the door; "they are asking for you,—you are wanted."
"But who is it, varlet?"