The lock gave, the door flew open, and Madelinette stepped swiftly into the room, in time to see George Fournel sway and fall, his sword rattling on the hard oak floor.
"Oh, what have you done, Louis!" she cried, then added hurriedly to Havel: "Draw the blind there, shut the door, and tell Madame Marie to bring some water quickly." The silent servant vanished, and she dropped on her knees beside the bleeding and insensible man, and lifted his head.
"He insulted you and me, and I've killed him, Madelinette," said Louis hoarsely.
A horrified look came to her face, and she hurriedly and tremblingly opened Fournel's waistcoat and shirt, and felt his heart.
She was freshly startled by a struggle behind her, and, turning quickly, she saw Madame Marie holding the Seigneur's arm to prevent him from ending his own life.
She sprang up and laid her hand upon her husband's arm.

"He is not dead--you need not do it, Louis," she said quietly.

There was no alarm, no undue excitement in her face now.

She was acting with good presence of mind.

A new sense was working in her.