While this little drama had been enacted overhead, the young guardsman
had shaken off his first stupor of amazement, and had pushed his way
through the crowd with such vigour that he and his companion had nearly
reached the bottom of the steps. The uniform of the king's guard was in
itself a passport anywhere, and the face of old Catinat was so well
known in the district that everyone drew back to clear a path for him
towards his house. The door was flung open for them, and an old servant
stood wringing his hands in the dark passage.

"Oh, master! Oh, master!" he cried.

"Such doings, such infamy! They will murder him!"

"Whom, then?"

"This brave monsieur from America. Oh, my God, hark to them now!"

As he spoke, a clatter and shouting which had burst out again upstairs
ended suddenly in a tremendous crash, with volleys of oaths and a
prolonged bumping and smashing, which shook the old house to its
foundations. The soldier and the Huguenot rushed swiftly up the first
flight of stairs, and were about to ascend the second one, from the head
of which the uproar seemed to proceed, when a great eight-day clock came
hurtling down, springing four steps at a time, and ending with a leap
across the landing and a crash against the wall, which left it a
shattered heap of metal wheels and wooden splinters. An instant
afterwards four men, so locked together that they formed but one rolling
bundle, came thudding down amid a _debris_ of splintered stair-rails,
and writhed and struggled upon the landing, staggering up, falling down,