As the glass shivered and flew wide, under the point of Nell’s blade, all eyes turned toward her and all blades quivered threateningly in the air.
Buckingham was first to ascend the steps in pursuit. He was disarmed–more through the superiority of Nell’s position than through the dexterity of her wrist.
Then for the first time, she realized her danger. Her eyes staring from their sockets, she drew back from her murderous pursuers, and, in startled accents, she knew not why, screamed in supplication, with hands uplifted:
“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!”
The storm was stayed. All paused to hear what the stranger-youth would say. Would he apologize or would he surrender?
The suspense was for but a second, though it seemed an eternity to Nell.
The open window was behind.
With a parting glance at the trembling blades, she turned quickly and with reckless daring leaped the balcony.
“T’ hell with ye!” was wafted back in a rich brogue defiantly by the night.
Astonishment and consternation filled the room; but the bird had flown. Some said that the wicked farewell-speech had been Adair’s, and some said not.