We all shuddered.
Larsan himself turned pale.

Monsieur Darzac, in response to the cry, had flown back into the room.
The magistrate, the gendarme, and Larsan followed closely after.
Rouletabille and I remained on the threshold.

It was a heart-breaking sight that met our eyes.

Mademoiselle Stangerson, with a face of deathly pallor, had risen on her bed, in spite of the restraining efforts of two doctors and her father.

She was holding out her trembling arms towards Robert Darzac, on whom Larsan and the gendarme had laid hands.