At the other end of this room was a small door. Jack opened it and discovered a typical Parisian back-alley. But what he saw in his mind's eye was the moment, just a few minutes ago, when he had ridden right past the duc d'Arcachon while carrying an unsheathed sword. One twitch of the wrist, and the man who (as he now knew) had taken Eliza and her mother off into slavery would be dead. He could run back into the house now, and have a go at it. But he knew he'd lost the moment.