“Out by de greenhouse—dey was measurin' off de groun'—dey's got de colonel's pistols—you kin see 'em from de winder!”
In an instant she had parted the heavy silk curtains and lifted the sash. She would have thrown herself from it if Mrs. Cheston had not held her, although it was but a few feet from the ground.
“Harry!” she shrieked—an agonizing shriek that reverberated through the ballroom, bringing everybody and everything to a stand-still. The dancers looked at each other in astonishment. What had happened? Who had fainted?
The colonel now passed through the room. He had been looking after the proper handling of the famous Madeira, and had just heard that Alec wanted him, and was uncertain as to the cause of the disturbance. A woman's scream had reached his ears, but he did not know it was Kate's or he would have quickened his steps.
Again Kate's voice pierced the room:
“Harry! HARRY!”—this time in helpless agony. She had peered into the darkness made denser by the light rain, and had caught a glimpse of a man standing erect without his coat, the light of the torches bringing his figure into high relief—whose she could not tell, the bushes were so thick.
The colonel brushed everybody aside and pulled Kate, half fainting, into the room. Then he faced Mrs. Cheston.
“What has happened?” he asked sharply. “What is going on outside?”
“Just what I told you. Those fools are out there trying to murder each other!”
Two shots in rapid succession rang clear on the night air.