You must go at once.

If you do not, at the risk of your displeasure, I must carry you." "I will go," she said.

"You saved me before, and I trust you." "Trust Pierre as you would trust me," he said.
"Now, Pierre, take her hand and hurry her upstairs." The clash of swords, mingled with shouts and oaths, were heard below; and Philip, as he saw Pierre turn with Claire de Valecourt, ran down.

On the next landing the count, with four serving men, was defending himself against the assault of a crowd of armed men, who were pushing up the staircase.

Others behind them held torches, while some of those engaged in the fray held a torch in one hand, and a sword in the other.
"Ah, is it you, Monsieur Fletcher ?" the count said, as Philip placed himself beside him, felling one of the foremost of the assailants, as he did so, with a sweeping blow.
"It is I, count.