As he was running he heard a bullet whistle past him, and heard at the same time the report of a gun.
"It is not M. de Rênal," he thought, "he's far too bad a shot." The dogs ran silently at his side, the second shot apparently broke the paw of one dog, for he began to whine piteously. Julien jumped the wall of the terrace, did fifty paces under cover, and began to fly in another direction. He heard voices calling and had a distinct view of his enemy the servant firing a gun; a farmer also began to shoot away from the other side of the garden. Julien had already reached the bank of the Doubs where he dressed himself.
An hour later he was a league from Verrières on the Geneva road. "If they had suspicions," thought Julien, "they will look for me on the Paris road."
