Instantly she sprang back to the king's closet, screaming, not as a
signal to us, for she had forgotten our agreement in that respect, but in
genuine fright.
Her screams brought George, De Grammont, and myself to the door at the
head of the stairs in less time than one could count ten. We drew our
swords, and I tried to open the door, but found it locked.
"The oars! The heavy oars!" whispered De Grammont.
I ran down the stairs to the boat and was about to ask Bettina to hand me
the oars, when she, anticipating me, whispered:--
"I heard some one call for the oars, so I threw them out. There they
are!"
There they were, true enough, halfway up the water stairs, ready for my
hand, because of Betty's quickness.
In less than ten seconds I was at the top of the stairs again, and within
twenty seconds more we had battered down the door with our heavy ash
oars. In the king's closet we found Frances, surrounded by men at arms,
and the king crouching in a corner, barricaded by small pieces of
furniture.
George fired his pistol, and one of the six men fell, whereupon several
pistol shots were fired, filling the small room with powder smoke, but
injuring no one so far as we knew. De Grammont found an opening in
another man's armor, and four stood between us and Frances. Then the real
fight began--four against three. This would have been heavy odds in an
open field, but it was not so formidable in a small room almost dark with
smoke.
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