All in an instant, and as suddenly as he had rushed upon her, the infuriated man fell back a pace and his hand dropped to his side, while the glare of his eyes changed to a stupid stare.
“You!” he muttered, “you!” and the murderous knife fell from his hand upon the floor.
Some one shrieked aloud:
“A madman! Take him away!”
The men rushed upon him and dragged him from the room. Molly clung sobbing to her new-made husband.
“Oh, Cecil,” she whispered, “he is not mad. It is John Keith, my sister’s lover. He has made some strange mistake, I am sure! He must have thought it was his own sweetheart being married instead of me! Oh, let me go and speak to him, poor tortured Johnny!”
A shout came back from the hall.
The captive had broken loose and escaped into the darkness of the night.
“I am so glad!” sighed Molly, with infinite relief.
And Cecil Laurens looked down at her with grave eyes.