"I will," yelled Beaujos, and, as he stepped back, he seized a pistol from the hand of one of the men and discharged it at Andrew. Then the fellow thought his doom was sealed! For, in a moment, he knew that he had missed him, and that the pistol which Andrew now lifted in his left hand would be used with better aim. And, with a harsh cry, he jumped behind one of the pillars, calling to the men to shoot Andrew down; to throw themselves upon him and drag him to the ground.
Meanwhile, from outside the door, amidst the kicks and beatings which the master of the house was administering, his voice arose:
"What devil's work is doing in there?" he called out. "And what means this clash of arms and firing while I wait outside? Answer, you hounds Are you snarling between yourselves, or whom have you there?"
For reply, Andrew struck the door with the butt of the pistol and called back:
"You desire to know?"
"Ay, answer! Whose voice is that?" And it appeared as though his own voice had changed somewhat as he asked the question.
"The voice," Andrew replied, "of Philip Vause's brother."
It seemed to him--his ears on the alert to catch the other's next words--as though that reply produced a gasp from the man outside; also, he thought, an awful, blasphemous curse. One thing for certain it did produce--silence henceforth. De Bois-Vallée spoke no more.
But, now, he had to return to those around him, since, though Beaujos had fled behind the pillar as Andrew raised his pistol, it was evident that he had not desisted, but only retired temporarily from the attack.
He was coming at him again, supported this time by the others; was whispering--though so loudly and excitedly that each word was plainly to be heard, "You, at his legs, you, seize his sword arm; I will run him through. If that fails--shoot him dead."