"You take us with you. Then, when we are outside, free from these howling Lorrainers who justly seek your life, you shall use that sword--against me. At once you shall use it. But, now, be quick, waste no time. Hark, see, look over, they are almost in your hall. There is, I say, no time to waste."
It was true! There was no time to waste! He, De Bois-Vallée, could see that as well as Andrew; glancing down through the rude-carved mediæval balustrades, he recognized the swift impending doom of his house.
For the door was almost down now--the shouts of the Lorrainers would have told that if nothing else had done so. Also the beating of axes and sledges on it, the clatter of countless feet outside on the stones, the glare of lights from torches and flambeaux that sent gleams through the windows, and winked and trembled on the carved beams of the stairs, and the armour and arms with which the ancient hall was hung, and lit up all their faces above.
Also, still, above all the noise outside, above the yells and execrations and curses of the Lorrainers, above their shouts and cries, and the firing of their weapons over the broken-down door into dark upper corners, there rose the sweet, clear voice of the boy singing, "Lorraine, Lorraine, ma douce patrie."
"You hear, you see!" Andrew said. "The end of you and of your vile house is at hand. All escape below is long since past. Lead us to the secret exit you know of."
He stood there before them; before the woman he had deeply wronged, though, as yet, Andrew knew not how; before the mad woman whose love had turned to gall and hate and treachery; before that huge avenger in whom he saw, and, seeing, recognized his doom. Stood before them, a shadow almost, in the fitful light which illuminated the darkness, as they, too, stood shadows before him.
"Quick," Andrew exclaimed again. "Quick. Or we all die together in this house. Only--you first. If you tarry longer--another moment--while I count ten--I fling you over to those men below," and as he spoke he advanced towards De Bois-Vallée.
Unheeding his actions, in truth not valuing these actions sufficiently to oppose them, his attention too much occupied by the awful destruction going on below, Andrew had let the villain surmount the topmost stair--gradually, and step by step--there being but three of them--so that now he stood on a level with the others. And in his hand was his sword.
Then, in answer, he spoke, while still his form was indistinct to them and he loomed a blurred figure near them.
"There is," he said, "no exit to this house. All here are doomed, all must die----"