"Ha!—who speaks?" demanded Rougemont, a shade passing over his countenance.
"I, Gerard Paston!" exclaimed Reeks, stepping forward.
The crape was gone from his brow, and in its place was seen the handsome and resolute features of a man of middle life. He held a pistol in either hand.
"Is it you, Gerard Paston?" cried Auriol, regarding him; "the brother of Clara, my second victim!"
"It is," replied the other. "Your deliverance is at hand, Auriol."
"And you have dared to penetrate here, Gerard?" cried Rougemont, stamping the ground with rage. "Recollect, you are bound to me by the same ties as Auriol, and you shall share his fate."
"I am not to be intimidated by threats," replied Paston, with a scornful laugh. "You have employed your arts too long. Deliver up Auriol and this gentleman at once, or——" And he levelled the pistols at him.
"Fire!" cried Rougemont, drawing himself up to his towering height. "No earthly bullets can injure me."
"Ve'll try that!" cried Ginger, coming up at the moment behind Paston.
And he discharged a pistol, with a deliberate aim, at the breast of Rougemont. The latter remained erect, and apparently uninjured.