"'To his own money,' Jocelyn repeated, coming a little nearer. 'You know, Murchison, well enough what I mean—you and your two confederates here. You're nothing more nor less than common card sharpers. I took a pack of your cards up-stairs. I needn't say anything more. I think you'd better give the boy back his money. I meant to wait until to-morrow. Fate seems to have anticipated me. How much did you lose, Richard?'
"Dan Murchison strode up to him and I saw one of the other men go for his hip pocket.
"'Will you take that back?' Murchison demanded.
"'Not on your life!' Thew replied.
"Murchison went for him, but he hadn't a dog's chance. I never saw such a blow in my life. Jocelyn hit him on the point of the chin and he went over like a log—cut his head against the fender. He lay there groaning, and I—I swear to you, Nora, that I'm not a coward, but I couldn't move—my knees were shaking. The two of them went for Jocelyn, and before they could get there the door opened and a third man came in—Jake Hannaway, the most dangerous of the lot. Jocelyn kept the other two off and half turned his head towards me, where I was standing like a gibbering, nerveless lunatic.
"'I think you'd better take a hand, Richard,' he said."
Nora gasped a little and laid her hand upon his sleeve.
"Don't, Dick," she begged,—"not for a moment. I can't bear it. Just a moment."
She clutched at the side of the settee. Richard Beverley simply sat still, looking through the walls of the room. There was not the slightest change in his face. He just waited until Nora whispered to him. Then he went on.
"I won't tell you about the fight," he said. "I wasn't much use at first. Jocelyn was there, taking two of them on, and butting in sometimes against Hannaway, who'd tackled me. Then I began to get my strength back, and I think I should have settled Hannaway, but the door opened softly and I saw Katharine's face. She gave a little shriek, and Jake Hannaway got me just at the back of the head. I was pretty well done in, but Thew suddenly swung round and caught Jake Hannaway very nearly where he had hit Murchison. Down he went like a log. I stood there swaying. I can see the room now—a table overthrown, glasses and flower vases all over the floor, and those two men looking as though they meant to murder Thew. They rushed at him together. He dodged one, but his strength was going. Then for the first time he sprang clear of them, got his back to the wall.—I won't spin it out—he shot one of them through the shoulder. The other one had had enough and tried to bolt. Jocelyn Thew was just too quick for him. He flung a heavy candlestick and got him somewhere on the neck. There they all were now—Murchison sitting up and dabbing his face, half conscious, one of the others groaning and streaming with blood, the other lying—just as though he were dead. Jocelyn turned and spoke to Katharine—I can hear his voice now—I swear, Nora, there wasn't a quaver in it—