"Edith! Shot, did you say!" cried her brother, leaning against the barrister for support.
"Yes, but not seriously, I hope. She has been brought here. The doctors are now with her in her room."
"Who shot her?" demanded Brett savagely.
"The person who was flung into the harbour by the other milord. It is stated that she is a woman, but really at this moment I have not heard all the facts. She was carried to the hospital with the others."
The two waited to hear no more. They ran upstairs, and Talbot would have fallen twice had not Brett supported him. Reaching the corridor which contained their apartments they found Sir Hubert, Lord Fairholme, Daubeney, and Mr. Winter standing silently, a sorrowful, motionless group, outside Edith's room.
"What terrible thing has happened?" Brett asked them. "Surely Miss Talbot cannot be seriously hurt?"
The only one who could answer was Mr. Winter.
"We hope not, sir," he said, "but the doctors will be here in a moment. They are extracting the bullet now."
Before the bewildered barrister could frame another question the door of Edith's room opened noiselessly, and two Italian gentlemen emerged. One of them spoke English well. He addressed himself to Sir Hubert Fitzjames.