He did not move, but took sight again, and fired.
Rullecour fell, shot through the jaw.

A cry of fury and dismay went up from the French at the loss of their leader, a shout of triumph from the British.
The Frenchmen had had enough.

They broke and ran.

Some rushed for doorways and threw themselves within, many scurried into the Rue des Tres Pigeons, others madly fought their way into Morier Lane.
At this moment the door of the watchmaker's shop opened and the little girl who had been seen at the window ran into the square, calling out: "Ro! Ro!" It was Guida Landresse.
Among the French flying for refuge was the garish Turk, Rullecour's ally.

Suddenly the now frightened, crying child got into his path and tripped him up.