As I leapt upon him I had involuntarily closed the door, and as he cried, “Let me go, traitor!” Betty fell on her knees before him, exclaiming, “No, no! he is my preserver.”

Sir B——­ M——­ was too mad with rage to pay any attention to her, and kept on,—–­

“Let me go, traitors”

As may be imagined, I did not pay much attention to this request so long as the loaded pistol was in his hand.

In our struggles he at last fell to the ground and I on top of him.  The landlord and his people had heard the uproar, and were trying to get in; but as we had fallen against the door they could not do so.

Betty had the presence of mind to snatch the pistol from his hand, and I then let him go, calmly observing,

“Sir, you are labouring under a delusion.”

Again Betty threw herself on her knees, begging him to calm himself, as I was her preserver not her betrayer.

“What do you mean by ’preserver’?” said B——­ M——­

Betty gave him the letter, saying,—­

“Read that.”

The Englishman read the letter through without rising from the ground, and as I was certain of its effect I opened the door and told the landlord to send his people away, and to get dinner for three, as everything had been settled.