"Ye gods in Heaven, hear him!" he cried, with an outburst of Rage at least as great as that of the other Man. "He loves her, and talks of Dishonour, whilst I love her and only breathe of Worship! By all the Devils in Hell, my Lord Stour, I tell you that you lie!"
And before any of us there realized what he meant to do, he ran to the Window, threw open all the Casements with such violence that the glass broke and fell clattering down upon the gravelled place below.
"Hallo!" he called in a stentorian Voice. "Hallo, there!"
My Lord Stour, bewildered, un-understanding, tried to bluster.
"What are you doing, man?" he queried roughly. "Silence! Silence, I say!"
But Mr. Betterton only shouted the louder.
"Hallo, there! Friends! Enemies! England! Here!"
I could hear the Tumult outside. People were running hither from several directions, thinking, no doubt, that a Fire had broken out or that Murder was being done. I could hear them assembling beneath the window, which was not many feet from the Ground. "Why! it's Tom Betterton!" some of them said. And others added: "Hath he gone raving mad?"
"Is any one there who knows me?" queried Mr. Betterton loudly.
"Yes! Yes!" was the ready response.