Westerham turned on him sharply. “I am compounding a felony,” he cried; “but still, if you are quick, you will get away. I won't detain you.”
By this time two or three men had come in from the hall to inquire the meaning of the delay. They surveyed the scene uneasily.
“How many of you are there?” demanded Westerham, glancing towards the door. “I suppose it is a case of twenty to one; but never mind. On this occasion it is my move. Bring your guns over here one by one. You on the left there start first.”
Lord Penshurst and Kathleen were staring in amazement at Westerham, as indeed were all the guests. It was a simple exhibition of the domination of one will over many. One by one the men came forward and deposited their weapons at Westerham's feet.
When they had all laid down their arms he turned again to Melun. “You can call your men off now,” he said.
Melun was in no mind to remain. Without a word he walked out of the ball-room, calling on the men to accompany him; they followed him like sheep.
“Just a minute, Lord Penshurst,” said Westerham, easily, “while I see these visitors off the premises.”
He went out into the hall and watched the departure of the three cars.
Melun was shaking with rage. So angry was he, indeed, that his passion overcame his fear, and as he was about to enter his car he stepped back into the hall again and addressed Westerham.
“You shall pay for this, my gentleman,” he said in a shaking voice.