Ratoneau; a spring and a clutch; it might have been a tiger leaping at
the horse's neck and carrying off its victim. The girl screamed again
and again, as Angelot set her on the ground, and trembled so that she
could not stand alone. As her lover supported her for an instant, saying
to Marie Gigot, who ran forward from the horse's head, "Take her--take
her home!" Ratoneau fired his pistol straight at the two young heads so
near together. The bullet passed actually between them, touching
Helene's curls. Then the sturdy peasant woman threw a strong arm round
her, and dragged her away towards La Mariniere.

Angelot, with a flushed face and blazing eyes, turned to the General,
who sat and glared in speechless fury. Then the young fellow smiled,
lifted his hat, and set it jauntily on again. He had not drawn his
hunting knife, and stood empty-handed, though this and a pair of pistols
were in his belt.

"And now, Monsieur le General!" he said, a little breathlessly.

Ratoneau stared at him, struck, even at that moment, by his
extraordinary likeness to his uncle. There was the same easy grace, the
same light gaiety, the same joy in battle and fearless confidence, with
more outward dash and daring. Ah, well! as the other insolent life had
ended, so in a few minutes this should end. It would be easy--a slip of
a boy--it was fortunate indeed, that it happened so.

"Mille tonnerres! you can be buried together!" said Ratoneau.

"Merci, monsieur, I hope so--a hundred years hence," Angelot answered
with a laugh.

"You are mistaken--I am not talking of your wife," growled Ratoneau.
"She will be a widow in ten minutes, and married to me in a month. I
mean that you and your precious uncle can be buried together."

"Indeed! Is my uncle going to die?" Angelot said carelessly; but he
looked at the madman a little more steadily, with the sudden idea that
he was really and literally mad.

"He is dead already. I have killed him," said Ratoneau.

Angelot turned pale, and stepped back a pace, watching him cautiously.

"When? Where? I don't believe it," he said.

"We had a disagreement," said Ratoneau. "It was about you that we
quarrelled, a worthless cause. He chose to take your part, and to insult
me. I ran him through the body."

Saying this, he slowly dismounted and drew his sword. Angelot stood
motionless, looking at him. The words had stunned him; his heart and
brain seemed to be gripped by icy hands, crushing out all sensation