Garnache fell back and raised his chair, and in that instant mademoiselle once more intervened between them.
"Stand aside, mademoiselle," cried Garnache, who now, grown cool, as was his way when once he was engaged, saw clearly through the purpose formed by Marius.

"Stand aside, or we shall have him giving the alarm." He leapt clear of her to stop Marius's sudden rush for the door.

On the very threshold the young man was forced to turn and defend himself, lest his brains be dashed out by that ponderous weapon Garnache was handling with a rare facility.

But the mischief was done, in that he had reached the threshold.

Backing, he defended himself and gained the anteroom.
Garnache followed, but the clumsy chair was defensive rather than offensive, and Marius's sword meanwhile darted above it and below it, forcing him to keep a certain distance.
And now Marius raised his voice and shouted with all the power of his lungs: "To me! To me! Fortunio! Abdon! To me, you dogs! I am beset." From the courtyard below rose an echo of his words, repeated in a shout by the sentinel, who had overheard them, and they caught the swift fall of the fellow's feet as he ran for help.