At the same instant a chair, knocked down by Blondel in his efforts, fell with a crash, throwing down a pewter platter; and Claude, white and breathless as he was, began to struggle, seeing his mistress so handled.

The four swayed to and fro.

Another moment, and either the Syndic must have jerked himself free, or the contest must have attained to dimensions that could not escape the notice of the neighbours, when a sound--a sound from within, from upstairs--stayed the tumult as by magic.
Blondel ceased to struggle, and stood aghast.

Basterga relaxed his hold upon his prisoners and listened.

Claude leant back against the wall.