"Kill where you please, rob where you please, but not where
I am! Or I will hang you by the heels on Montfaucon, man by man! I will
flay your backs. Go! Go! I am Tavannes!"
But the mob, cowed for a moment by the thunder of his voice, by his
arrogance and recklessness, showed at this that their patience was
exhausted. With a yell which drowned his tones they swayed forward; a
dozen thundered on the door, crying, "In the King's name!" As many more
tore out the remainder of the casement, seized the bars of the window,
and strove to pull them out or to climb between them. Jehan, the
cripple, with whom Tignonville had rubbed elbows at the rendezvous, led
the way.
Count Hannibal watched them a moment, his harsh face bent down to them,
his features plain in the glare of the torches. But when the cripple,
raised on the others' shoulders, and emboldened by his adversary's
inactivity, began to squeeze himself through the bars, Tavannes raised a
pistol, which he had held unseen behind him, cocked it at leisure, and
levelled it at the foul face which leered close to his. The dwarf saw
the weapon and tried to retreat; but it was too late. A flash, a scream,
and the wretch, shot through the throat, flung up his hands, and fell
back into the arms of a lean man in black who had lent him his shoulder
to ascend.
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