But it is over now.

Don't leave me." He had no sooner uttered those words than we were thrilled by a frightful cry that rang through the chateau,--a veritable death cry.
"Malheur!" roared Rouletabille; "we shall be too late!" He tried to rush to the door, but he was too dazed, and fell against the wall.

I was already in the gallery, revolver in hand, rushing like a madman towards Mademoiselle Stangerson's room.

The moment I arrived at the intersection of the "off-turning" gallery and the "right" gallery, I saw a figure leaving her apartment, which, in a few strides had reached the landing-place.
I was not master of myself.

I fired.