But before Mr. Lyon had fairly got the words out of his mouth Leo put his pistol out of the window, and pulled the trigger and blazed away.
The ball whizzed past within an inch of the ear of Alexander, who instinctively dodged and shrank out of the range of fire, as he shouted:
“Stop that, you villain! What do you mean, you poltroon? It is I, your master.”
But the man was mad with terror; and even while his master spoke, fired again and again, until he had discharged six shots from his revolver; and then he retired from the window.
“And now, you scoundrel!” again shouted Mr. Lyon, as soon as silence was restored. “Do you hear me—do you know me now? I am your master. Come down and open the door; I want you.”
A minute passed, and then the voice of Leo was heard from above, calling cautiously:
“Marse Alick, Marse Alick! Is it you, sir?”
“Of course it is I, you cursed idiot! who else should it be? And it is very well for you that I am living to answer, and you are not a murderer. Come down instantly, I say, and open the door.”
“Lor, Leo, chile, it is marster; I knows his speech. So let him in,” spoke another low voice, which Mr. Lyon, in astonishment, recognized as belonging to Pina.
Another minute passed, and then Leo came down, with his teeth chattering from cold and fright, and opened the door.