Rupert must have turned in time to receive the dog's spring.

The beast, maimed and crippled by his shattered shoulder, did not reach his enemy's face, but his teeth tore away the bit of cloth that we had found held in the vise of his jaws.

Then came another shot, a laugh, retreating steps, and a door slammed.

With that last sound Herbert woke to the fact of the count's escape; with weary efforts he dragged himself into the passage.
The idea that he could go on if he got a drink of brandy turned him in the direction of the cellar.

But his strength failed, and he sank down where we found him, not knowing whether the king were dead or still alive, and unable even to make his way back to the room where his master lay stretched on the ground.
I had listened to the story, bound as though by a spell.