Deafened and half-dazed by the buffeting wind and the suddenness of it all, she stood awhile, then, squaring her dimpled chin, set about freeing one of the horses.
CHAPTER XLII
WHICH DESCRIBES A DUEL
Colonel Lord George Cleeve, dozing over a bottle beside the hearth, stirred at the heavy tread of feet, unclosed slumberous eyes at the sudden opening of the door, glanced round sleepily, stared and sprang to his feet, broad awake in a moment, to see the Major and Sergeant Zebedee, wind-blown and mud-splashed, tramp heavily in bearing between them a shapeless bundle of sodden clothes and finery the which, propped upright in a chair, resolved itself into a human being, gagged and bound hand and foot.
"Jack!" he gasped, his eyes rolling. "Why, Jack—good Lord!" After which, finding no more to say he sank back into his armchair and swore feebly.
"Off with the gag, Sergeant," said the Major serenely as he laid by his own mud-spattered hat and riding-coat. The Sergeant obeyed; and now beholding the prisoner's pale, contorted features, the Colonel sprang to his feet again.
"Refuse me!" he gasped. "What the—Mr. Dalroyd!"
"Or Captain Effingham!" said the Major. "Loose his cravat and shirt, Sergeant, and let us be sure at last." Sergeant Zebedee's big fingers were nimble and the Major, taking one of the silver candlesticks, bent above the helpless man for a long moment; then, setting down the light, he bowed:
"Captain Effingham, I salute you!" said he. "To-night sir, here in this room, I propose that we finish, once and for all, what we left undone ten years ago, 'tis for this purpose I brought you hither, though a little roughly I fear. My Lord Cleeve will oblige me by acting as your second, I think. But first, take some refreshment, I beg. We have ample leisure, so pray compose yourself until you shall have recovered from the regrettable violence I have unavoidably occasioned you. Loose him, Zebedee!"