“What is it?” Dufresne asked in an undertone.
“I hear several voices whispering; the noise is coming nearer—yes, they are coming up these stairs. Ah! there is no more doubt; they are coming to arrest us,—we are discovered!”
“Silence! what imprudence!” said Dufresne, trying to overcome his own alarm; “if they are really coming here, let us not lose our heads, and be careful what you say; above all things, do not call me Dufresne.”
“I don’t know where I am,” said Edouard, whose terror redoubled as the noise drew nearer.
“Well! I—I don’t know what my name is, myself,” said Lampin, dropping his glass; “but I tell you that they don’t want us.”
At that moment there was a ring at the door on the landing. Edouard fell, almost lifeless, on a chair; Dufresne remained standing in the middle of the room, motioning to the others not to stir. Soon there was another ring, accompanied by violent knocking.
“There’s no one here,” cried Lampin; “go to the devil!”
“Damn!” said Dufresne, “we must open the door now.—Who’s there?”
“Open, messieurs, or we shall be obliged to break in the door.”
“Break away, my friend!” said Lampin; “it’s all one to me! The house ain’t mine.”