Then all was still again. A terrifying silence now reigned. The two lovers looked at each other. The same idea flashed through their minds at the same moment.
"Hide yourself behind the curtains," said Ely. "I will find out what has happened."
She threw a dressing-gown over her shoulders and drew one of the curtains of the alcove before the young man. Then, lamp in hand, she walked toward the window, opened it, and asked in a loud voice:—
"Who is there? What is the matter?"
"Do not be alarmed, my dear," replied a voice whose sinister irony made her shiver. "It was only a robber trying to break into the villa.—He must have two or three bullets in him. We are just looking for him. Don't be frightened. He will never come back again! Laubach fired at him point-blank."
Ely closed the window. When she turned she saw that Pierre was already more than half dressed. He was very pale, and his hands were trembling.
"You are not thinking of going?" she cried. "The garden is crowded with men!"
"I must go!" he replied. "They were shooting at Olivier!"
"At Olivier?" she repeated. "You are mad!"
"Yes, at Olivier," he said with an agonized energy; "they took him for me. He must have seen me leave the hotel and he followed me. They were his steps that I heard."