A Swiss, hearing them at his back, fell on his knees, shrieking for mercy.
"Leave him. Don't stop!" Javogues panted. Seizing Barabant's arm, he bore him down a side gallery, shouting:
"There he is! There he is!"
At the end of the corridor Barabant beheld a tall form disappearing at the head of a narrow stairway.
Up this they rushed, into the single outlet, a guard-room, only to find it empty. Javogues threw himself furiously against the walls.
"I saw him, I saw him; he is here somewhere!"
"Who?"
"Dossonville! He was among the Swiss. I saw him." He ran around the room, assailing it with his huge fists. All at once he gave a cry, and lifting the hatchet he bore, he sent a secret door crashing in.
"He is here!"
He hacked his way through and disappeared, thundering down the passage. Barabant, only half comprehending what had happened, remained a moment in perplexity. But the sound of women's cries startled him again to activity. He darted back into the current of the mob and gained the women's apartments. At the foot of the staircase an officer of the National Guard was crying: