“Fly! Blanche, fly! Otto is not far off. The name—save the honor of the name!”
The two women obeyed, making their escape through the back door, which opened upon the garden; and they had scarcely done so, before a violent knocking was heard at the front door.
The police were coming! This increased Martial’s frenzy; and with one supreme effort to free himself from his assailant, he gave him such a violent push that his adversary fell, striking his head against the corner of the table, after which he lay like one dead.
But the Widow Chupin, who had come downstairs on hearing the uproar, was shrieking upon the stairs. At the door someone was crying: “Open in the name of the law!”
Martial might have fled; but if he fled, the duchess might be captured, for he would certainly be pursued. He saw the peril at a glance, and his decision was made.
He shook the Widow Chupin violently by the arm, and said, in an imperious voice:
“If you know how to hold your tongue you shall have one hundred thousand francs.”
Then, drawing a table before the door opening into the adjoining room, he intrenched himself behind it as behind a rampart, and awaited the approach of the enemy.
The next moment the door was forced open, and a squad of police, under the command of Inspector Gevrol, entered the room.
“Surrender!” cried the inspector.