There came the sound of a deeper voice, half coaxing, half bullying; then the lady cried out again, on a hysterical note of panic. “I won’t go with you! You sh-shan’t elope with me against my will! Take me home! Oh please, Mr Markham, take me home!”
Miss Merriot looked at her brother. He got up, and went unhurriedly to the door, and stood listening.
The man’s voice was raised now in anger. “By God, Letty, you shan’t fool me like that!”
Following on a crash from behind the closed door as of a fist banged on the table, came a choked, imploring murmur.
“No!” barked the man’s voice. “If I have to gag you, to Gretna you’ll go, Letty! D’you think I’m fool enough to let you slip through my fingers now?”
Mr Merriot turned his head. “My dear, I believe I don’t like the noisy gentleman,” he said calmly.
Madame Kate listened to a cry of: “My papa will come! I won’t marry you, oh, I won’t!” and a faint frown was between her eyes.
There came the sound of a coarse laugh. Evidently the gentleman had been drinking. “I think you will,” he said significantly.
Miss Merriot bit one fingernail. “It seems we must interfere, my Peter.”
Peter looked rueful, and drew his sword a little way out of the scabbard.