A figure leaped down from the window. It was De Lysle.
"Brandon!" he exclaimed. "Let me aid you." The other waved him back.
"You cannot aid me. I am alone on the ship," he said. "Farewell, my friend.—Ah! place for his Excellency!"
The Governor came hurriedly out, followed by Maynadier and Marbury. Constable, and the rest of the men of the house party, attracted by the unusual commotion, were hastening over from the race track, though they could not yet see what was occurring on the opposite side of the house.
Colonel Sharpe took in the whole scene at a glance:—the solitary figure against the wall, the dozen soldiers that hemmed him in, the wounded Herford lying on the grass, the blood blotching breast and shoulder.
And he swore a great oath, and, kneeling, raised the Captain's head.
"He is not dead!" he said. "Here, Maynadier, look to him, will you?" Then he arose and faced Brandon.
The latter's sword went up in salute.
"Perhaps your Excellency will favor me with a pass or two?" he said.