“Mad!” she cried, and with inconceivable strength she broke from the man’s grasp, and darted upon the murderer of her sweetheart.
She tore off his wig, which she flung upon the floor.
The company assembled in the parlour of the “Lord Cornwallis” saw before them a man with fluttering, conscience-stricken eyes, and hands clasped imploringly towards them.
“I am innocent!” he exclaimed. “Take her away.”
Joe Doughty rushed forward, overset one of the tables as he went along, and sprang at the throat of Chudley.
“I’ll ha’ yer heart’s blood!” he yelled, in a voice of concentrated passion.
He caught the affrighted man by the throat with both hands, and pressed him against the wall.
Chudley’s face became purple, and it was evident that he was undergoing the process of strangulation.
“Leave go your hold,” cried a soldier at the further end of the room. “Do you want to kill the man.”
“I’ll ha’ his life, if I die for it!”