She recoiled from the strange figure; her eyes met his.

Unluckily the light from the room behind her fell on his face, and with a shrill cry she named him.
One second and all had been lost, for the crowd of idlers at the other end of the passage had caught her cry, and were looking that way.

With presence of mind Tignonville clapped his hand on her mouth, and, huddling her by force into the room, followed her, with La Tribe at his heels.
It was a large room, in which seven or eight people, who had been at prayers when the cry startled them, were rising from their knees.

The first thing they saw was Javette on the threshold, struggling in the grasp of a wild man, ragged and begrimed; they deemed the city risen and the massacre upon them.

Carlat threw himself before his mistress, the Countess in her turn sheltered a young girl, who stood beside her and from whose face the last trace of colour had fled.