As he pulled at the cloak, Henri raised his right arm powerfully, and drove the butt-end of the pistol which he held, right through his skull, and scattered his brains upon the staircase.

The grasp of the dying man was so firm that he could not extricate the cloak from his fingers.

He saw that his only chance of escape was to relinquish it; he did so, and as he leapt from the window to the ground, poor Marie had nothing round her but her slight night dress.
Henri stumbled as he came to the hard gravel, but still he allowed no portion of Marie's body to touch the ground.

He recovered himself in a moment, and made for the iron gate leading from the garden to the wood, through which de Lescure and his wife had escaped.
As Henri leapt from the window Westerman's eye had caught sight of the red scarf, and he knew that it was Larochejaquelin who was escaping.

He rushed himself to the window, though, had he known it, he might have gone into the garden through the door, which was close at his hand.