"Lights!" said the doctor sharply and, as the lamps shone out, the prisoner was seen limp and white, sprawling over a chair.
Duprat hurried to him and pressed an ear to his heart.
"He has fainted," said the doctor.
Coquenil looked half pityingly at his stricken adversary. "Down and out," he murmured.
Duprat, meantime, was working over the prisoner, rubbing his wrists, loosening his shirt and collar.
"Ammonia—quick," he said to his assistant, and a moment later, with the strong fumes at his nostrils, Groener stirred and opened his eyes weakly.
Just then a sound was heard in the distance as of a galloping horse. The white-faced prisoner started and listened eagerly. Nearer and nearer came the rapid hoof beats, echoing through the deserted streets. Now the horse was crossing the little bridge near the hospital, now he was coming madly down the Boulevard du Palais. Who was this rider dashing so furiously through the peaceful night?
As they all turned wondering, the horse drew up suddenly before the palace and a voice was heard in sharp command. Then the great iron gates swung open and the horse stamped in.
Hauteville hurried to the open window and stood there listening. Just below him in the courtyard he made out of the flashing helmet and imposing uniform of a mounted garde de Paris. And he caught some quick words that made him start.
"A messenger from the Prime Minister," muttered the judge, "on urgent business with me."