's room. The moment I arrived at
the intersection of the "off-turning" gallery and the "right" gallery, I
saw a figure leaving her apartment, which, in a few strides had reached
the landing-place.

I was not master of myself. I fired. The report from the revolver made a
deafening noise; but the man continued his flight down the stairs. I
ran behind him, shouting: "Stop!--stop! or I will kill you!" As I rushed
after him down the stairs, I came face to face with Arthur Rance coming
from the left wing of the chateau, yelling: "What is it? What is it?" We
arrived almost at the same time at the foot of the staircase. The window
of the vestibule was open. We distinctly saw the form of a man running
away. Instinctively we fired our revolvers in his direction. He was not
more than ten paces in front of us; he staggered and we thought he was
going to fall. We had sprung out of the window, but the man dashed off
with renewed vigour. I was in my socks, and the American was barefooted.
There being no hope of overtaking him, we fired our last cartridges at
him. But he still kept on running, going along the right side of the
court towards the end of the right wing of the chateau, which had
no other outlet than the door of the little chamber occupied by the
forest-keeper. The man, though he was evidently wounded by our bullets,
was now twenty yards ahead of us. Suddenly, behind us, and above
our heads, a window in the gallery opened and we heard the voice of
Rouletabille crying out desperately:

"Fire, Bernier!--Fire!"

At that moment the clear moonlight night was further lit by a broad
flash. By its light we saw Daddy Bernier with his gun on the threshold
of the donjon door.

He had taken good aim. The shadow fell. But as it had reached the end of
the right wing of the chateau, it fell on the other side of the angle
of the building; that is to say, we saw it about to fall, but not the
actual sinking to the ground. Bernier, Arthur Rance and myself reached
the other side twenty seconds later. The shadow was lying dead at our
feet.

Aroused from his lethargy by the cries and reports, Larsan opened the
window of his chamber and called out to us. Rouletabille, quite awake
now, joined us at the same moment, and I cried out to him:

"He is dead!--is dead!"

"So much the better," he said. "Take him into the vestibule of the
chateau." Then as if on second thought, he said: "No!--no! Let us put
him in his own room."

Rouletabille kn