"Who is it that knocks?" he asked.
"It is I--the lad of Notre Dame."
He recognized the voice and ran down and opened the door.
"What is it, signora?"
"My father bids me tell you, sir, that he but learned the instant before
he despatched me that the butchers are going to attack this house this
evening, under the pretext that there are English spies here, but really
to slay the provost of the silversmiths, and to gratify their followers by
the sack of his house. I fear that I am too late, for they were to march
from the _abattoirs_ at nine, and it is already nearly half-past. Look! I
see torches coming up the street."
"It is too late, indeed, to fly, even if we wished to," Guy said. "Dame
Margaret and the children retired to bed an hour ago. Will you take this
ring," and he took off from his finger one that D'Estournel had given him,
"and carry it at once to the lodgings of Count Charles d'Estournel? They
are in the house on this side of the Hotel of St. Pol. He is still up, and
has some of his friends with him. Tell him from me that this house is
being attacked, and beg him to gather a party, if he can, and come to our
assistance. Say that we shall defend it until the last."
The girl took the ring and ran off at the top of her speed. The roar of
the distant crowd could now be distinctly heard. Guy put up the strong
bars of the door and then rushed upstairs. First he knocked at the door of
Maitre Leroux.
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