Mademoiselle threw La Chatre's sword to a far corner, ran to the door leading from the stairway landing, closed it, and pushed home the bolt.
"They are at the gate! They are entering!" cried the governor, joyously.
"Another minute, Montignac!"
There was the rushing clank of hoofs on the drawbridge, then from the courtyard rose a confused turbulence of horses, men, and arms.
Again my weapons clashed with Montignac's. Julie looked swiftly around. Her eye alighted on the dagger that lay on one of the chairs. She drew it from its sheath.
"If we die, it is together!" she cried, holding it aloft.
There came a deadened, thumping sound, growing swiftly to great volume.
It was that of men rushing up the stairs.
"To the rescue!" cried La Chatre. "But one more parry, Montignac!"
There was now a thunder of tramping in the hall outside the door.
"Ay, one more—the last!" It was I who spoke, and the speech was truth. I leaped upon my enemy, between his dagger and his sword, and buried my dagger in his neck. When I drew it out, he whirled around, clutched wildly at the air, caught the curtain at the window, and fell, with the quick, sharp cry:
"God have mercy on me!"