The other masked men now covered Westerham, but Melun cried out sharply: “Stop that! No firing!”
For he knew who was the best shot, and who was likely to be quickest; and he had no desire to risk his own skin.
“Tell the men to lower their hands,” said Westerham, “and you can put your own hands down.”
Melun gave the order in a surly voice.
“Thank you!” said Westerham.
All this had passed in complete silence on the part of Lord Penshurst's guests. Lord Penshurst also was far too astonished to speak.
“You must forgive my intrusion,” Westerham said, now addressing the Prime Minister, “but I must ask you to allow me to have a word with this man.” He pointed to Melun.
Without more ado he came down the staircase from the musicians' gallery and walked over to Melun's side.
“You are an impudent scoundrel, Captain Melun,” he whispered in the captain's ear, “but I will put a stop to this. You will have to call your men off and restore all that property.”