He began a clatter at the door, and I called to Drexel sharply—
“Come and help here, quickly.”
He came hurrying out, but before he could ask a question I caught him by the throat and shook out of him all his little courage and most of his breath.
“Up these steps, quick,” I said, dragging him up, and reaching the top I hammered and kicked at the door until some one came.
“In the devil’s name what’s this?” cried a voice threateningly, as the door was opened.
“Thank God it’s you, Ivan,” I said, more glad than I can tell to see him. “The mademoiselle; is she safe?”
“M. Denver!” he exclaimed, in profound astonishment.
“Mademoiselle Helga, man, tell me, is all well?”
“Yes, monsieur, but what——”
“Thank God for that,” I interrupted, the sense of relief filling me with indescribable delight.