The sight of him daunted her, yet not for long. She fired again—blindly, one may suppose. The bullet passed over his head, between the curtains, and through the window. A sound of vigorous knocking came from below.
"You little devil!" snarled Bullard, and ran at her.
Then her nerve weakened and she darted toward the door of the passage. Ere she could reach it, it flew open, and, dropping the revolver, she fell into the arms of the panting Alan.
"Good God! what's this?" he cried at the extraordinary appearance of Bullard and the smoke wreaths in the atmosphere. "Are you all right?" he whispered to the girl.
Teddy dashed in, gave a shout and made for Bullard, only to be brought up short by a shining muzzle almost in his face.
From downstairs a female voice rose in shrieks; from the stairs came a man's, shouting in a foreign tongue. Next moment there fell a frantic beating on the door.
Marjorie darted from her refuge, thrust home the key and turned it.
Monsieur Guidet almost fell in, crying—
"Quick! Look after Mr. Caw! He was hurt—on the stair!"
As he spoke, Lancaster, Doris, Mr. Harvie and the doctor appeared from the passage.
"Doctor, will you go to Caw?" said Alan rapidly. "He's hurt—downstairs."