Behind him, howling and roaring like the beasts of prey they were become, surged the tenantry of Bellecour to pay the long-standing debt of hate to their seigneur.
"Here," said Des Cadoux, with a grimace, "endeth the chapter of our lives.

I wonder, do they keep rappee in heaven ?" He snapped down the lid of his gold snuffbox--that faithful companion and consoler of so many years--and cast it viciously at the head of one of the oncoming peasants.

Then tossing back the lace from his wrist he brought his sword into guard and turned aside a murderous stroke which an assailant aimed at him.
"Animal," he snapped viciously, as he set to work, "it is the first time that my chaste blade has been crossed with such dirty steel as yours.

I hope, for the honour of Cadoux, that it may not be quite the last." Up, and ever up, swept that murderous tide.

The half of those that had held the stairs lay weltering upon them as if in a last attempt to barricade with their bodies what they could no longer defend with their hands.