"There, monsieur. Don't you hear?"
"Nothing, Félix; your teeth are chattering. Cross yourself and come on."
But I could not stand it.
"I'll go back and see, monsieur."
"No," Lucas said, striding back from the foot of the next flight. "I will go."
We saw a glint in the gloom, monsieur's bared sword.
"You will go neither one of you. Hush! If we show ourselves, there'll be no duel to-day."
We kept still, all three leaning over the banister, peering down to where the white tiles picked themselves out of the floor of the hall far beneath. We could see them better than we could see one another. All was silent. Not so much as a rustle came up from below. Suddenly Lucas made a step or two, as if to pass us. M. Étienne wheeled about, raising his sword toward the spot where from his footfalls we supposed Lucas to be.
"You show an eagerness to get away from me, M. de Lorraine."
"Not in the least, M. de Mar. This alarm is but Félix's poltroonery, yet it prompts me to go down and close the shutter."