The other men poured in quietly and quickly and formed a semi-circle about the door.
Three of their number remained outside, covering with their revolvers the two country constables who had been on special duty for the purpose of controlling the traffic.
All the men were masked, not only their foreheads, but their faces right down to their chins being hidden in black crape.
The man who led them stepped forward and ordered the groom of the chambers back; and the man and his fellow-servants retreated before the advance of the strange intruders.
A couple of armed and masked men sufficed to keep the handful of men-servants penned in the corner. Two others were stationed on the stairs to check any advances in that direction, while two others kept the passages closed against all comers.
At the head of about twelve men the leader walked swiftly towards the door of the ball-room, where he met Lord Penshurst face to face. For the Prime Minister, growing uneasy at the continued movement in the hall, had come out himself to see what might be on foot.
“Get back, Lord Penshurst,” said the leader, still in a pleasant and easy voice; “get back or I will not answer for your life.”
The Prime Minister checked himself, but craned his head forward.
“By heaven!” he said in a low voice, “I believe that is you, Melun.”