The light of the burning stables, shining through the open doorway, revealed them to the defenders, whilst they themselves looked up into the dark.

There was a sudden cracking of pistols and a few louder reports from the guns, and the mob fled, screaming, back into the yard, leaving a score of dead and wounded on the polished floor of the hall.
Old M.des Cadoux laughed in the dark, as with his sword hanging from his wrist he tapped his snuff-box.
"Ma foi," said he to his neighbour, "they are discovering that it is not to be the triumphal march they had expected.

A pinch of rappee, Stanislas ?" But the respite was brief.

In a moment they saw the glare increase at the door, and presently a half-dozen of the rabble entered with torches, followed by some scores of their comrades.

They paused at sight of that company ranged upon the stairs, as well they might, for a more incongruous sight could scarcely be imagined.