Not knowing which one of them the four
desperadoes had in view now, he determined not to relax his vigilance
an instant, and to take such precautions as he felt pretty sure would
circumvent their plans, whatever they might be. He lighted all the
candles there were in his room--a goodly number--and opened his door,
so that they threw a flood of light on that of Isabelle's chamber, which
was exactly opposite his own. Next he drew his sword, laid it, with his
dagger, on a table he had drawn out in front of the door, and then
sat down beside it, facing the corridor, to watch. He waited some time
without hearing or seeing anything. Two o'clock had rung out from a
neighbouring church tower when a slight rustling caught his listening
ear, and presently one of the four rascals--the very man he had first
seen--emerged from the shadow into the bright light streaming out into
the passage from his open door. The baron had sprung to his feet at the
first sound, and stood erect on the threshold, sword in hand, with
such a lofty, heroic, and triumphant air, that Merindol--for it was
he--passed quickly by, without offering to molest him, with a most
deprecating, crestfallen expression; a laughable contrast to his
habitual fierce insolence. His three doughty comrades followed in quick
succession--but not one of them dared to attack de Sigognac, and they
slunk out of sight as rapidly as possible.
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