Instead, in lightning flashes he foresaw what must happen: his betrothed in the hands of the murderers; the fair face that had smiled on him frozen with terror; brave men, the fighters of Montauban, the defenders of Angely, strewn dead through the dark lanes of the city.

And now a gust of passion, and now a shudder of fear, seized him; and in any other assembly his agitation must have led to detection.

But in that room were many twitching faces and trembling hands.

Murder, cruel, midnight, and most foul, wrung even from the murderers her toll of horror.

While some, to hide the nervousness they felt, babbled of what they would do, others betrayed by the intentness with which they awaited the signal, the dreadful anticipations that possessed their souls.
Before he had formed any plan, a movement took place near the door.