“It is d’Alembert; I hear the Bourbon cry,” shouted Pascal, hurrying to one of the entrances.
Gerard called to the Governor to yield; and Dubois, hearing this, changed his defensive tactics for those of vigorous attack, and as he was driving the Governor before him, he stepped back suddenly, and so brought the duel to an end.
“Now, my lord, you must see the uselessness of further resistance,” said Gerard. “You will give me your sword.”
“To a treacherous dog like you? Never!” was the fierce answer.
“Do you speak of treachery? I saved your life to-day in the market place, thinking that some spark of honour might remain to you to be roused by the act—and your reward was an order that I should be shot. And but now you sought to drive your sword into my heart, unarmed though I was. I will have no mercy for you: nothing but justice. Come, your sword. You are powerless.”
The Governor had a curse on his lips, but checked it, as a great shout came from Pascal and the Bourbons with him.
“The Castle is ours, my lord. D’Alembert is here,” cried Pascal; and the Bourbon soldiers came streaming into the hall, with d’Alembert at their head.
The Governor glanced round him with the look of a hunted beast, and then said sullenly—
“I have no option, it seems.” He held out his sword as if about to give it up; but, with a sudden change, he uttered a cry of rage, and lunged forward swiftly at Gerard’s heart.
Only just did the thrust miss as Gerard, fortunately suspicious, had noted the change of look and leapt aside.