"Nay sir," answered Mr. Dalroyd, bowing, "pray take your time—you are a little distressed I think, pray recover your breath——"
"I am quite ready, sir." So they bowed to each other, advanced upon each other and again their weapons crossed. And now as though they knew it was a matter of time they pressed each other more fiercely and with a new impetuosity, yet equally alert and wary—came a whirl and flurry of ringing steel drowned all at once in the crash of splintering glass at one of the windows—a frenzied hand that groped, then the casement swung wide with a rush of wind and, as though borne in upon the raging tempest, a figure sprang into the room, long hair flying, a cloud of tresses black as the night, silks and satins torn and mud-splashed, one white hand grasping a silver-mounted pistol, the other stretched out commandingly.
"Stop!" she panted. "Stop!"
At sight of her Mr. Dalroyd lowered his weapon and bowed; the Major, with head drooping, viewed her beneath his brows, then, crossing to the table leaned there with head averted, and Lord Cleeve, having opened his eyes to their widest, opened his mouth also—but said not a word and dropped a button from suddenly relaxed fingers; as for the Sergeant he unclenched his fists, breathed a deep sigh of thankfulness and murmured "Zounds!"
"My Lord Cleeve," said she at last, "when Mr. Dalroyd has taken his departure, I will beg you to escort me to my house."
Lord Cleeve bowed and sheathed his sword looking foolish the while.
"A—a happiness!" he stammered.
"Mr. Dalroyd," said my lady very proudly for all her torn and muddy gown, "I ask you to prove your manhood by setting by that sword and leaving the house—now! You will find one of your coach horses below the terrace. Your quicker way will be by the window yonder."
Mr. Dalroyd hesitated, his pale cheeks flushed suddenly, his sleepy eyes opened wide, then he smiled and bowing, reached for his coat and with the Colonel's assistance got into it, and he slipped on his shoes. Then, heedless of the others, he caught my lady's hand to his lips and bowing, kissed it.
"Ah, Betty," said he, "you are worth the winning—aye, upon my soul you are!"