with hardly any interval, the street door opened and shut noisily, and
the two enemies were in the street, one pursued and the other pursuing.

"My God! Just to think of all that has happened is enough to make one
die of fright!" said Mademoiselle de Guerchi. "What will come next, I
should like to know? And what shall I say to the duke when he comes
back?"

Just at this instant a loud cracking sound was heard in the room.
Angelique stood still, once more struck with terror, and recollecting the
cry she had heard. Her hair, which was already loosened, escaped
entirely from its bonds, and she felt it rise on her head as the figures
on the tapestry moved and bent towards her. Falling on her knees and
closing her eyes, she began to invoke the aid of God and all the saints.
But she soon felt herself raised by strong arms, and looking round, she
found herself in the presence of an unknown man, who seemed to have
issued from the ground or the walls, and who, seizing the only light left
unextinguished in the scuffle, dragged her more dead than alive into the
next room.

This man was, as the reader will have already guessed, Maitre Quennebert.
As soon as the chevalier and the duke had disappeared, the notary had run
towards the corner where the widow lay, and having made sure that she was
really unconscious, and unable to see or hear anything, so that it would
be quite safe to tell her any story he pleased next day, he returned to
his former position, and applying his shoulder to the partition, easily
succeeded in freeing the ends of the rotten laths from the nails which
held there, and, pushing them before him, made an aperture large enough
to allow of his passing through into the next apartment. He applied
himself to this task with such vigour, and became so absorbed in its