lf-preservation bade him pluck at his revolver. He
got it out at the moment when Jim, setting his back to the door to
secure his captive, dealt with the heavy life-preserver a blow at the
assailant's head, which fortunately only reached his shoulder. The
latter released Tom's throat to get possession of the pistol. In the
struggle it went off. There was a hideous blasphemy, a groan, and a
heavy fall between the wheels of the cab.

Ere the smoke cleared away two more auxiliaries appeared on the scene.
With Simon Perkins's assistance, Lord Bearwarden had little difficulty
in pinioning his late antagonist, while Dick Stanmore, having lifted
the imprisoned lady out of the cab, over the housebreaker's prostrate
body, held her tightly embraced, in a transport of affection
intensified by alarm.

Lord Bearwarden, usually so collected, was now utterly stupefied and
amazed. He looked from Tom Ryfe's white face, staring over the badge
and great-coat of a London cabman, to the sinking form of his wife--as
he believed--in the arms of her lover, clinging to him for protection,
responding in utter shamelessness to his caresses and endearments.

"Mr. Stanmore!" he exclaimed, in a voice breathless from exertion, and
choking with anger. "You and I have an account to settle that cannot
be put off. Lady Bearwarden, I will see you home. Come with me this
instant."

Dick seemed as if he thought his lordship had gone mad. Nina stared
helplessly at the group. Another gasp and a fainter groan came from
the body lying underneath the cab.

"We must look to this man; he is dying," said Simon Perkins, on his
knees by the prostrate form, now motionless and insensible.

"My house is round the corner," answered Lord Bearwarden, stooping
over the fallen ruffian. "Let us take him in. All the doctors in
the world won't save him," he added, in a tone of grave pity. "He's
bleeding to death inside."

Nina had been a good deal frightened, but recovered wonderfully in
the reassuring presence of her lover. "_His_ house?" she asked, in a
sufficiently audible voice, considering her late agitation. "Who is
he, Dick, and where does he live?"

Two of the police had now arrived, and were turning their lanterns on
the party. The strong white light glared full on Miss Algernon's
face and figure, so like Lady Bearwarden's but yet to the husband's
bewildered senses so surely not his wife's.

He shook all over. His face, though flushed a moment ago, turned
de