Clearly, the whole thing had succeeded, exactly as the enemy wished, thanks to circumstances almost miraculously fortunate; for, after all, he might have arrived before the false message had sent his friends away. But then there would have been a battle between his own gang and the Altenheim gang. And Lupin, remembering Malreich's conduct, the murder of Altenheim, the poisoning of the mad girl at Veldenz, Lupin asked himself whether the ambush was aimed at him alone or whether Malreich had not contemplated the possibility of a general scuffle, involving the killing of accomplices who had by this time become irksome to him.
It was an intuition, rather, a fleeting idea, that just passed through his mind. The hour was one for action. He must defend Dolores, the abduction of whom was, in all likelihood, the first and foremost reason of the attack.
He half-opened the casement window on the street and levelled his revolver. A shot, rousing and alarming the neighborhood, and the scoundrels would take to their heels.
"Well, no," he muttered, "no! It shall not be said that I shirked the fight. The opportunity is too good. . . . And, then, who says that they would run away! . . . There are too many of them to care about the neighbors."
He returned to Dolores' room. There was a noise downstairs. He listened and, finding that it came from the staircase, he locked the door.
Dolores was crying and throwing herself about the sofa.
He implored her:
"Are you strong enough? We are on the first floor. I could help you down. We can lower the sheets from the window. . . ."
"No, no, don't leave me. . . . I am frightened. . . . I haven't the strength . . . they will kill me. . . . Oh, protect me!"
He took her in his arms and carried her to the next room. And, bending over her: