He never finished his speech, or attempted to make another.  On entering the back door he had struck his brazen head-piece against the lintel; the shock had broken the clasp, and his head was consequently bare.  As he pulled at the cloak, Henri raised his right arm powerfully, and drove the butt-end of the pistol which he held, right through his skull, and scattered his brains upon the staircase.  The grasp of the dying man was so firm that he could not extricate the cloak from his fingers.  He saw that his only chance of escape was to relinquish it; he did so, and as he leapt from the window to the ground, poor Marie had nothing round her but her slight night dress.

Henri stumbled as he came to the hard gravel, but still he allowed no portion of Marie’s body to touch the ground.  He recovered himself in a moment, and made for the iron gate leading from the garden to the wood, through which de Lescure and his wife had escaped.

As Henri leapt from the window Westerman’s eye had caught sight of the red scarf, and he knew that it was Larochejaquelin who was escaping.  He rushed himself to the window, though, had he known it, he might have gone into the garden through the door, which was close at his hand.  He leapt on the path, and was immediately on Henri’s track.  It was about three hundred yards from the house to the iron gate, and when Westerman was again on his feet, Henri had covered two thirds of the distance.

Run now, Henri, run your best, for the load you carry is heavy, and the German is strong and light of foot; his pistols, too, are loaded, and he well knows how to use them; but yours are empty, and you will not find another bare skull opposed to your heavy right hand; run, dear friend, and loving cousin; run faster with that precious trembling burden of yours, or all you have yet done, will have been done in vain.

But what avails his running:  he did run fast and well, laden as he was, and fatigued with no ordinary day’s work:  he gained the gate, while as yet his pursuer was above a hundred yards behind him; but of what avail would that be, if he were obliged to leave the passage free for his enemy:  it was impossible that he should continue to hold his ground, while he carried the fainting girl in his arms.  It was then that that wonderful presence of mind, in the midst of the most urgent danger, of which Henri Larochejaquelin showed so many instances during war, stood him in stead, and saved two lives, when salvation seemed impossible.

In wandering about the place some days before, he had passed through this gate, and observing that the key stood in the lock, he had idly turned it backwards and forwards, locking and relocking the gate without an object; he had then observed that though the key worked easily, there was something wrong about the wards which prevented him from drawing it out after the lock was turned.  The gate was made of iron bars, which were far enough asunder to allow of his hand and arm being passed through, so that when outside the gate he could then turn the key which was on the inside.