Loosing his hold on the rein for a second, the horseman managed to draw a knife from his girdle, and with one blow severed the strap to which the baron was clinging; then, driving his spurs into the horse's sides made the frightened animal spring suddenly forward, while de Sigognac--who was not prepared for this emergency, and found himself deprived of all support--fell violently upon his back in the road.

He was up again in an instant, and flying after Isabelle, who was now being borne rapidly away from him, and whose cries for help came more and more faintly to his ear; but the moment he had lost made his pursuit hopeless, and he knew that it was all in vain when he saw her disappear behind the thicket her ravisher had been aiming for from the first.

His heart sank within him, and he staggered as he still ran feebly on--feeling now the effects of his superhuman exertions, and fearing at each step that his feet would carry him no farther.

He was soon overtaken by Herode and Scapin, who, alarmed by the pistol shot, and fearing that something was wrong, had started in hot pursuit, though the lackey who served them as guide had done all that he possibly could to hinder them, and in a few faltering words he told them what had occurred.
"Vallombreuse again!" cried the tyrant, with an oath.

"But how the devil did he get wind of our expedition to the Chateau de Pommereuil?
or can it be possible that it was all a plot from the beginning, and we are bound on a fool's errand?
I really begin to think it must be so.