As he spoke the sentinel's shot was answered by a score of muskets. Two or three bullets shattered the glass in the window, which Canolles hastily closed.
He turned back into the room and found Nanon on her knees. Her women and her man-servant came running in from her apartment.
"There's not an instant to lose, Nanon!" cried Canolles: "come! come!"
He took her in his arms as if she weighed no more than a feather, and plunged into the underground passage, calling to her people to follow him.
The sergeant was at his post, torch in hand; the two soldiers, with matches lighted, were ready to fire upon a group of men, among whom was our old acquaintance, Master Pompée, pale with fear, and uttering profuse protestations of friendliness.
"Ah! Monsieur de Canolles," he cried, "pray tell them that you were expecting us; what the devil! one doesn't indulge in pleasantry of this sort with one's friends."
"Pompée," said Canolles, "I place madame in your charge; one whom you know has agreed upon her honor to answer to me for her; you shall answer to me for her upon your head."
"Yes, I will answer for everything," said Pompée.
"Canolles! Canolles! I will not leave you!" cried Nanon, clinging to the young man's neck; "Canolles, you promised to go with me."
"I promised to defend Saint-Georges while one stone stands upon another, and I propose to keep my promise."