“No; I will precede you,” I retorted; and in a moment more we were both inside the house.
As I turned to look at my companion I saw it was indeed the stocky gatekeeper. Then my eyes were drawn to his right hand, which clasped a knife—a knife red with blood.
“So it was you struck down the sentry?” I murmured, and shivered a little at the recollection.
“With this knife,” he answered, and returned it to his belt. “If only the blow had killed them all!”
I pulled myself together with an effort and glanced about the room. It was empty. The candles were guttering in their holders.
“Blow out the lights,” I said, “and bar the windows. They may think we are retiring and will wait till we have had time to get to bed. I will warn M. le Comte.”
He nodded without replying, and as I sprang across the vestibule and mounted the stair I saw him going from candle to candle with incredible rapidity. I had intended sending a servant to assist him, but there was no sign of any in either vestibule or corridor.
I sprang up the stair and found that the hall above was also strangely empty. There was no time for hesitation. Beneath the third door to the left I perceived a ray of light. I strode to it and knocked sharply.
“Who is there?” called a voice which thrilled me.
“It is I, Tavernay, mademoiselle,” I answered, trying to speak calmly. “Dress yourself at once——”