For an inquisitive burgher, hearing the outcries along the road, had popped his head out of his garden door at the very moment that Tristram whizzed by, followed by the detonation.

The burgher, too, was uncertain about the bullet, but determined on the instant to take the gloomier view.

He therefore fell across the pavement on his stomach and bellowed.
The distraction was so sudden that two of the pursuers tripped over his prostrate form and fell headlong.

Their swords clanged on the cobbles.

With the clang there mingled the sound of a muffled explosion.
"Curse the idiot! You've killed him, Dick." The pair picked themselves up as their comrades leapt past them.
Dick snatched up his second pistol, and resumed the pursuit without troubling his head about the burgher.
The burgher picked himself up and extracted the ball--from the folds of his voluminous breeches.