ang-froid, "or thou wilt get thy accursed head smashed."

But Chiquita paid no attention to him--she did not care whether she was
killed too, or not. Bending over Agostino, she passionately kissed his
forehead, whispered "I love thee!"--and then, with a blow as swift
as lightning, plunged into his heart the knife she had reclaimed from
Isabelle. It was dealt with so firm a hand, and unerring an aim, that
death was almost instantaneous--scarcely had Agostino time to murmur
"Thanks."

With a wild burst of hysterical laughter the child sprang down from the
scaffold, while the executioner, stupefied at her bold deed, lowered his
now useless club; uncertain whether or not he should proceed to break
the bones of the man already dead, and beyond his power to torture.

"Well done, Chiquita, well done, and bravely!" cried Malartic--who had
recognised her in spite of her boy's clothes--losing his self-restraint
in his admiration. The other ruffians, who had seen Chiquita at the
Crowned Radish, and wondered at and admired her courage when she stood
against the door and let Agostino fling his terrible navaja at her
without moving a muscle, now grouped themselves closely together so as
to effectually prevent the soldiers from pursuing her. The fracas
that ensued gave Chiquita time to reach the carriage of the Duke of
Vallombreuse--which, taking advantage of the stir and shifting in the
throng, was slowly making its way out of the Place de Greve. She climbed
up on the step, and catching sight of de Sigognac within, appealed to
him, in scarcely audible words, as she panted and trembled--"I saved
your Isabelle, now save me!"

Vallombreuse, who had been very much interested by this strange and
exciting scene, cried to the coachman, "Get on as fast as you can, even
if you have to drive over the people."

But there was no need--the crowd opened as if by magic before the
carriage, and closed again compactly after it had passed, so that
Chiquita's pursuers could not penetrate it, or make any progress--they
were completely baffled, whichever way they turned. Meanwhile the
fugitive was being rapidly carried beyond their reach. As soon as the
open street was gained, the coachman had urged his horses forward,
and in a very few minutes they reached the Porte Saint Antoine. As
the report of what had occurred in the Place de Greve could not have
preceded them, Vallombreuse thought it better to proceed at a more
moderate pace--fearing that the