He had reached the porch now, swung back the door, and with a sudden spring—­it was wonderful how quick he moved—­had dashed into the ballroom, now a maze of whirling figures—­a polka having struck up to keep everybody occupied until the reel was finally made up.

“Marse Talbot!—­Marse Talbot!” All domestic training was cast aside, not a moment could be lost—­“All on ye!—­dey’s murder outside—­somebody go git de colonel!—­Oh, Gawd!—­somebody git ’im quick!”

Few heard him and nobody paid any attention to his entreaties; nor could anybody, when they did listen, understand what he wanted—­the men swearing under their breath, the girls indignant that he had blocked their way.  Mrs. Rutter, who had seen his in-rush, sat aghast.  Had Alec, too, given way, she wondered—­old Alec who had had full charge of the wine cellar for years!  But the old man pressed on, still shouting, his voice almost gone, his eyes bursting from his head.

“Dey’s gwineter murder Marse Harry—­I seen ’em!  Oh!—­whar’s de colonel!  Won’t somebody please—­Oh, my Gawd!—­dis is awful!  Don’t I tell ye dey’s gwineter kill Marse Harry!”

Mrs. Cheston, sitting beside Kate, was the only one who seemed to understand.

“Alec!” she called in her imperious voice—­“Alec!—­come to me at once!  What is the matter?”

The old butler shambled forward and stood trembling, the tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Yes, mum—­I’m yere!  Oh, can’t ye git de colonel—­ain’t nobody else’ll do—­”

“Is it a duel?”

“Yes, mum!  I jes’ done see ’em!  Dey’s gwineter kill my Marse Harry!”

Kate sprang up.  “Where are they?” she cried, shivering with fear.  The old man’s face had told the story.

“Out by de greenhouse—­dey was measurin’ off de groun’—­dey’s got de colonel’s pistols—­you kin see ’em from de winder!”

In an instant she had parted the heavy silk curtains and lifted the sash.  She would have thrown herself from it if Mrs. Cheston had not held her, although it was but a few feet from the ground.

“Harry!” she shrieked—­an agonizing shriek that reverberated through the ballroom, bringing everybody and everything to a stand-still.  The dancers looked at each other in astonishment.  What had happened?  Who had fainted?

The colonel now passed through the room.  He had been looking after the proper handling of the famous Madeira, and had just heard that Alec wanted him, and was uncertain as to the cause of the disturbance.  A woman’s scream had reached his ears, but he did not know it was Kate’s or he would have quickened his steps.

Again Kate’s voice pierced the room: 

“Harry!  Harry!”—­this time in helpless agony.  She had peered into the darkness made denser by the light rain, and had caught a glimpse of a man standing erect without his coat, the light of the torches bringing his figure into high relief—­whose she could not tell, the bushes were so thick.