good use of them. I shall undertake to keep back the enemy a good half hour. How many loaded pistols are there?"
"Four."
"Put them on the floor."
They did as he desired.
"That is right; I will remain. They will find some one to speak to. Now, quick, go all of you."
Critical situations make short thanks. They hardly took time to press his hand.
"I shall see you soon," said the marquis.
"No, monseigneur, I hope not. Not soon; I am going to die."
One after another they all entered the narrow staircase, the wounded going first. As they were descending, the marquis took the pencil from his note-book in his pocket, and wrote some words on the stone which could no longer be turned, and which left the passage open.
"Come, monseigneur, there is no one left but you," said Halmalo.
And Halmalo started to go down.
The marquis followed him.
L'Imânus was left alone.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE EXECUTIONER.
The four pistols had been placed on the flags, for this hall had no floor; l'Imânus picked up two of them, one in each hand.
He went cautiously toward the entrance to the staircase, which was obstructed and screened by the chest.
The assailants evidently feared some surprise. One of those final explosions which are the catastrophe of the conqueror as well as the conquered. The last attack was as slow and cautious as the first had been impetuous.
They had not been able, they had not wished perhaps, to break through the chest with violence; they had
