I ran across the room and then stopped suddenly: it was a cowardly action to leave the man to face my enemies alone!
"Fly, monsieur, fly!" he implored.
"Not I, Pillot, until we can go together. You have stood by me, I will stand by you. The bars are up? Good! That will delay them a moment. Can we move this chest? Take one end and we will try. Ma foi! 'twill be quite a war of the barricades! Now this table. 'Tis heavy! So much the better. Here they come!"
With a roar the mob swept along the landing. Our door, which was strong and massive, withstood for a time their heaviest blows.
"Now, monsieur, the window!" cried Pillot; "the barricade will soon be down. This way. Peste!" and he uttered a groan.
In the excitement he had forgotten, and I had not noticed, that the window was barred.
"We have trapped ourselves, M. de Lalande!" he exclaimed bitterly. "There is no way out!"
"Chut! The bars will break," said I, clambering to the ledge, and grasping the middle one; but it was very thick and firmly fixed.
The roar of the mob outside doubled my energy; I pulled and tugged with all my might, skinning my hands in the effort. Hammer, bang, crash! behind me. How long would our defences stand? Would the soldiers arrive in time? Would the bar never loosen? Surely it was giving! Yes! I could have shouted aloud in triumph—it was yielding! Another wrench would be sufficient! Oh, for the strength of twenty men! Now!
A yell of joy and a groan of despair announced that I was too late. The door was down, the table overturned, the room was filled with the howling mob. They were headed by two men, one dressed as a charcoal-burner, the other as a mason. Each, however, carried a good sword, and in spite of their disguises I recognised them as Maubranne and Peleton.