The stranger, having no other weapon than a cane, rained blows upon the enemy until he wrenched himself loose and fled. René then turned upon the accomplice, seized him by the throat with both hands and gradually tightened his hold until the man's face was purple from strangulation. Then he released him, but, suddenly feeling a sharp sensation in his shoulder, he renewed his grasp, maintaining the pressure until the villain fell inert, dropping his weapon. The assaulted man quickly seized the Marquis by the arm and dragged him toward the house, saying in a voice full of emotion:
"Come, let us hasten. If the police detect us, we are lost."
He spoke in French with a German accent.
"I cannot," said René staggering. "I am wounded and too weak to walk."
Throwing his arms around René in order to sustain him, the stranger conducted him to his home, rapping three times in a peculiar manner upon the door, which was then opened by a woman of attractive form and features and apparently about thirty-five years of age. She shrieked on beholding the condition of the two men.
"'Tis a wounded gentleman, Jeanne—wounded in defending me," said the stranger in an authoritative voice. "Close the door securely and help me to examine his wounds."
The woman obeyed, leaving her lamp on a stand, and aided her husband in placing René upon a lounge in the room next the entrance. Not till then did she dare to whisper:
"And you, Charles Louis; has any ill befallen you?"
"Nothing but a slight scratch on the elbow. Quickly bring some water, ether, balsam and court-plaster and linen. Call Amélie. She is courageous."
While Jeanne hastened to execute these commands, Charles Louis unfastened René's outer garments, also his close-fitting jacket, removing the lace-trimmed shirt soaked in blood and disclosing a wound near the left shoulder-blade, the ruffian's dagger having been aimed for a dangerous lung thrust. His weakness was due entirely to loss of blood, which, continuing to flow, had left a dark, clotted stain on his white skin. When Jeanne returned with the restoratives, René was smiling tranquilly. A girl in white entered the apartment, holding a wax taper and, upon recognizing René, pale, blood-stained and nude to the waist, she uttered a cry of terror and dropped the light.