"Touch and go," she supplemented his sentence. "I have Hélène's gun. You boys had better help Nikka. I can guard this place."
A whistle shrilled in the courtyard.
"Hugh!" It was Nikka's voice. "Jack!"
There was a racket of shots.
"Yes, he must be badly outnumbered," muttered Hugh. "No time to lose. Here, Jack, where's your handkerchief? Right O! Thanks, Bet. Not too tight. Can you stand that?"
"Yes, load my gun, somebody."
Betty took it. King, ensconced behind an adjacent pillar, fired at the door.
"They seem to be waiting for us out there," he observed.
"Yes," said Hugh. "Betty, you lie here in the shadows. Don't let anybody approach you, no matter what they say. Keep an eye on Mrs. Hilyer and the Russian girl—and her brother. See him over there? He's done in, for the time-being, but if he comes to maybe you'd better tie him up."
"Don't you worry about me," answered Betty valiantly. "I can take care of myself. Do hurry!"