A murmur of admiration ran round the table of the saloon.
"We all feel," said Ching gravely, "that your conduct was very brave and splendid. You risked your life for a mistress whom you had no cause to love and good reason to fear. I shall put this commendation in my report."
"Thank you, sir," said Marie. "Of course I knew that if I saved Madame she would forgive me everything."
The Court smiled at this ingenuous display of heroism combined with regard for the main chance. Marie was sprung from thrifty French peasant stock.
Madame followed, and told what we already know. She would not, she declared, have shot to kill if she could have stopped Willie by wounding him. John Clifford interposed with a question. Madame, he said, was a first-rate pistol shot. She could have hit her assailant in any part of his body that she pleased. Could she not have preserved her own life by disabling Lord Topsham's right arm or breaking his leg?
Madame, with a sad little smile, offered him her automatic pistol.
"It carried a .25 nickel-coated bullet," said she. "A tiny bullet with no stopping power. With a .45 revolver and a lump of soft lead, I could have knocked the poor boy over long before he reached me. I should have fired at him immediately after he flung off Marie. But with this little toy I had no choice. When he launched himself at me I shot him through the heart, and should, even then, have been pierced by his dagger had I not evaded the stroke by flinging myself instantly flat on my back. The dagger point just missed me. If I had done no more than wound him, had I merely punctured a hole in a leg or arm, he would have had plenty of time to kill me. You may not believe me, Mr. John Clifford, but I swear to you that I did not shoot willingly. I loved Willatopy very sincerely."
Clifford said no more, and when Ching asked for his signature to the evidence he gave it without another word.