He whirled his horse round and spurred him in a dozen bounds to
the stairs at our end of the gallery. There he leaped from him,
dropping the bridle recklessly; and bounding up three steps at a
time, he ran along the gallery. Half-a-dozen of the troopers
about us stayed only to fling their reins to one of their number,
and then followed, their great boots clattering on the planks.

My breath came fast and short, for I felt it was a crisis. It
was a race between the two parties, or rather between the Vidame
and the leaders of the mob. The latter had the shorter way to
go. But on the narrow steps they were carried off their feet by
the press behind them, and fell over and hampered one another and
lost time. The Vidame, free from this drawback, was some way
along the gallery before they had set foot on it.

How I prayed--amid a scene of the wildest uproar and excitement--
that the mob might be first! Let there be only a short conflict
between Bezers' men and the people, and in the confusion Pavannes
might yet escape. Hope awoke in the turmoil. Above the yells of
the crowd a score of deep voices about me thundered "a Wolf! a
Wolf!" And I too, lost my head, and drew my sword, and screamed
at the top of my voice, "a Caylus! a Caylus!" with the maddest.

Thousands of eyes besides mine were strained on the foremost
figures on either side. They met as it chanced precisely at the
door of the house. The mob leader was a slender man, I saw; a
priest apparently, though now he was girt with unpriestly
weapons, his skirts were tucked up, and his head was bare. So
much my first glance showed me. It was at the second look it was
when I saw the blood forsake his pale lowering face and leave it