M. Lecoq did not lose a word or a gesture of this tragical scene. Either purposely or by accident, he pushed the door-curtain, which made a slight noise.
Laurence thought the door was being opened, that the detective was returning, and that Hector would fall alive into their hands.
"Miserable coward!" she cried, pointing her pistol at him, "shoot, or else—"
He hesitated; there was another rustle at the door; she fired.
Tremorel fell dead.
Laurence, with a rapid movement, took up the other pistol, and was turning it against herself, when M. Lecoq sprung upon her and tore the weapon from her grasp.
"Unhappy girl!" cried he, "what would you do?"
"Die. Can I live now?"
"Yes, you can live," responded M. Lecoq. "And more, you ought to live."
"I am a lost woman—"