He had not noticed that, upon the shots, several figures had started running from the banks across the ice. So he was now startled when a rough voice called out, “Stop! What are you doing?” and when a hand fell upon his shoulder.
He rose from the motionless body, and saw that he was surrounded by policemen. He was giving himself up for lost, when the policeman, who had spoken, said:
“Oh, I see you are a gendarme.”
Drexel caught at the chance. “Yes,” he panted. “I had arrested him, and he tried to shoot me. He’s a political.”
“An important one?”
A bold idea came to Drexel. “You heard of Captain Nadson’s great arrest to-night?”
They had; in fact they had all been ordered to be on the watch for a man who had escaped from Nadson—a foreigner.
“That’s the very man,” said Drexel.
“Was he indeed!” they exclaimed. One stooped and put his ear to Freeman’s chest.
“Is he dead?” asked Drexel.