“You must keep them here, M. Ramodanofsky,” I said quickly, “until I send the man below to the Kremlin for help if it can be had.”
“I fear I cannot keep them now,” he rejoined with perfect composure, although I saw his face twitch; “they suspect that I am not one of them. If they think me a traitor to their cause,” he laughed harshly, “an hour from now you will not recognize the fragments of my remains.”
“Ma foi!” I cried passionately, “how can you jest? Your daughter, man, your daughter!”
A violent emotion convulsed his features.
“I was mad to come here to-night,” he said, “stark, staring mad,” and with that he went to the window, calling out to them that he must speak.
I did not pause to hear more, but rushed down the stairs just as a thundering blow fell on the door, summoning us to surrender. Pierrot and the other man were in the hall, taken by surprise.
“Quick!” I cried, “the back door! Pierrot, watch here and defend the way, and you,” I said to the other, “must get out in the alley and run to the Kremlin. Tell the Czarevna Sophia that these hounds will murder the Boyar Feodor Sergheievitch Ramodanofsky and the Vicomte de Brousson.”
He was glad enough to look for an escape, and ran with me through the kitchen. The door was secured by two stout wooden bars, and I had lifted one from its sockets and had my hand on the other, when a sudden uproar without told me that it was too late. I replaced the bar, surrendering that last hope with a sickened heart. Then I ran back into the hall, just in time to see the outer door yield and the rioters pour into the entry. Pierrot was borne back into a lower room, and the way was unobstructed. With a yell of triumph, they came on. The stairs were high and narrow, and with a bound I reached them, and drawing my pistol, stood across their path. For an instant the tide was stayed, and the ringleaders halted; but the crowd behind, pushing into the narrow hall, sent them forward again. As they came up the first steps I fired twice, and two ruffians falling on top of each other, there was another pause. This gave me time to draw my sword; in another moment one of the leaders fell before me. Few men in France cared to measure swords with me, and certainly few would have dared upon that narrow stair. The rioters began to howl like baffled animals, and I kept the stair, but it could not be for long. I heard Ramodanofsky coming, and he joined me; but the sight of him drove them beyond the limit of fear.
“Traitor!” they bellowed; “a liar! a disguised aristocrat! down with him!”
And they poured up the staircase until it shook beneath their weight. I fought in that moment as I never fought before, and two more devils fell, before a blow from a spear stunned me, and I was borne down and trampled under foot. All the rest was lost in the blackness of unconsciousness.