him
rolling on the pavement ten paces off, so violently that he was knocked
senseless--the back of his neck coming in contact with a projecting
stone--and lay apparently lifeless where he fell.

So the way was cleared, and the victory in this fierce encounter was
honourably gained by our hero and his two companions over the four
sturdy ruffians, who had never been defeated before. They were in a
sorry plight--Azolan and Basque creeping stealthily away, on their hands
and knees, trying under cover of the darkness to put themselves beyond
the reach of further danger; Labriche lying motionless, like a drunken
man, across the gutter, and Merindol, less badly hurt, flying towards
home as fast as his legs could carry him. As he drew near the house,
however, he slackened his pace, for he dreaded the duke's anger more
than Herode's club, and almost forgot, for the moment, the terrible
agony from his dislocated shoulder, from which the arm hung down
helpless and inert. Scarcely had he entered the outer door ere he was
summoned to the presence of the duke, who was all impatient to learn the
details of the tremendous thrashing that, he took it for granted, they
had given to Captain Fracasse. When Merindol was ushered in, frightened
and embarrassed, trembling in every limb, not knowing what to say or
do, and suffering fearfully from his injured shoulder, he paused at the
threshold, and stood speechless and motionless, waiting breathlessly for
a word or gesture of encouragement from the duke, who glared at him in
silence.

"Well," at length said the Chevalier de Vidalinc to the discomfited
Merindol, seeing that Vallombreuse only stared at him savagely and did
not seem inclined to speak, "what news do you bring us? Bad, I am
sure, for you have by no means a triumphant air--very much the reverse,
indeed, I should say."

"My lord, the duke, of course cannot doubt our zeal in striving to
execute his orders, to the best of our ability," said Merindol,
cringingly, "but this time we have had very bad luck."

"What do you mean by that?" asked the duke sharply, with an angry frown
and flashing eyes, before which the stout ruffian quailed. "There were
four of you! do you mean to tell me that, among you, you could not
succeed in thrashing this miserable play-actor?"

"That miserable play-actor, my lord," Merindol replied, plucking up a
little courage, "far exceeds in vigour and bravery the great Hercules
they tell us of. He fell upon us