“Never mind who I may be, but keep your tongue still. Unless you wish to be quieted, kindly refrain from mentioning names in my presence.
“Now turn about, if you please, and get back to the ball-room.”
At this sudden confrontation by danger the Prime Minister's troubles were for the moment forgotten, and he was again the strong, courageous man that he had once been. He looked straight and steadily at the veiled eyes of the intruder, and declined to turn about. Instead, he retreated backwards step by step.
The music in the ball-room had effectually drowned any noise of the disturbance except to those who stood nearer to the door.
Among these was Hilden. He had followed hard upon the Prime Minister's footsteps, and had, at a glance, taken in the position of affairs.
Nor did he hesitate for a moment. Breaking into a run, he dashed across the hall towards the little alcove in which he knew were placed the telephone and the police call.
As he approached the alcove, however, he was brought to a standstill by a man with a revolver.
Melun noted his progress, and turned about and cried, “Keep that gentleman away. If he moves another yard—shoot!”
Young Hilden threw one contemptuous glance at Melun and walked on. The man hesitated to fire.
“Fire! you fool,” shouted Melun, but the man still held his hand and hesitated so long that Hilden had gripped the barrel of his revolver in his left hand before the fellow quite realised what was happening.