THE STRUGGLE.
The excitement, the ferocious joy of anticipated vengeance, nearly
suffocated me, as, softly drawing back the bolt of the door, I
retired into a dark corner, from whence I meant to spring upon him.
The latch was lifted, and he entered. At that moment, as if stirred
by an invisible hand, the embers of the dying fire shot into a flame
that shed a red light over all the squalid apartment, and thus the
wretch detected me in an instant.
"_Sangbleu!_" he exclaimed, and started back, more in wonder than
fear. "Who are you? hah!" he added, as he recognised me, and drawing
forth a pistol, fired it straight at my head; but happily the ball
struck the hard, thick wood of the stool which I used as a shield,
and remained there. The force of the shot, however, made me reel;
and as I was rushing forward, he drew forth another, but it flashed
in the pan. Then, to prevent the use of his knife, I hurled the
stool at his head. It struck him on the right temple with such force
as to stun him for an instant, and deluged his face with blood.
He was grasping vaguely at his girdle for the haft of the knife which
dandled there, when I closed with him, seizing his right arm; and
then a deadly struggle for life on one hand, and for life and
retribution on the other, ensued between us.
To know that I had in my grasp the hand that had destroyed
Jacqueline, endued me with such savage energy that for a time I was
quite a match for the Herculean ruffian with whom I fought. I was
lithe, active, and young, and my dragoon drill with sword and club,
had developed every muscle to the utmost.
The aspect of Hautois was frightful! His face was deathly pale, and
streaked with the blood that poured from the wound on his temple; his
thick black hair was matted and in ell-locks; and his yellow,
bloodshot eyes glared into mine, like those of a wolf, from beneath
their bushy brows, which met as one above his nose.
We never spoke as we swayed to and fro, panting hoarsely, grasping
each other's wrists with a tiger-clutch, and each making futile
efforts to reach the other's throat. We heard only our deep
breathing, the ceaseless rush of the stream, like a mill-race beneath
the floor, and the growling of the bloodhound, which, by some means,
had shut itself into the inner apartment.
In this struggle, where each man grasped the other with the fierce
compression of a smith's vice, it was evident that whoever got the
victory would yield neither mercy nor quarter to the vanquished.
Suddenly a pang of terror chilled my heart; for I found the muscular
Frenchman becoming stronger than myself, either because he had
husbanded his powers, or that mine (so wearied by past emotion, by
grief, and the toil of the preceding night) had departed; but he bent
me backward till I fell heavily prostrate on the floor, with him
above me, and in an instant both his knees were on my chest.
As yet, his right hand had never reached my throat, for my left was
on his wrist, and I held it from me at arm's length.
Relinquishing the hold his left hand had of me, he sought for the
knife at his girdle, but most fortunately, in our struggle, our
wrestling, writhing, and swaying to and fro, it had dropped from its
sheath, and lay on the floor beyond his reach, some yards off, else
perhaps these adventures had never been committed to paper.
On discovering this, he uttered a horrible malediction, and instantly
plunged his left hand on my throat. Then a red light seemed to flash
from my eyes; I felt as if the crown of my head was flying off--there
was a hissing and tingling in my ears, and for some moments I endured
all the horror of strangulation, till suddenly changing his mind, he
exclaimed--
"_Sangbleu!_ the trap-door--you shall take a cold bath in the black
Torrent du Cormier, my fine fellow!" And with a yelling laugh he
proceeded to drag me across the floor of the room while yet
breathless and incapable of resistance.
He dashed open the door of the inner apartment with his foot, and
then with a growl of long-suppressed fury the bloodhound sprang upon
him; rendered fiercer by the blood which still flowed from the wound
in the head of Hautois, it grasped him by the throat, snarling,
worrying and tearing, till dog and man fell down together--the dog
above, the man below.
Trembling with weakness and the overstrained exertion of my recent
struggle, I rose and looked with stern exultation on this new
conflict, at this new and unexpected ally, against whom the human
brute fought apparently in vain, for with all his strength he failed
to wrench or tear the dog's sharp fangs from his already lacerated
throat.
At last, by the terror of approaching death endued with twice his
natural strength, while uttering convulsive sobs of agony, he rose to
his full height, and reeled about the apartment with the great dog
hanging at his throat and the chain rattling at its collar; and what
a face was his, when for a moment a ray of moonlight fell on it
through the broken casement!
Hautois was reeling about close to the trap-door, when an idea seized
me. I threw it open, and gave him a push with all my strength; and
through the black aperture, with a shriek and a growl the man and dog
vanished together.
I stood alone--alone, with no sound in my ears save the rush of the
subterranean stream--the torrent of St. Aubin du Cormier; how deep,
how far down below, coming from _whence_ and flowing to _where_, no
man knew; but my teeth chattered, and a shudder passed over me.
I let the trap-door drop to shut out the horrid sound, and reeled
giddily into the outer apartment.