ill be down in
a moment."

The clumsy saber with which Seth had provided him was in his hand, as he
stepped forward in readiness. They might have retreated through the
other rooms, to the one into which they had climbed, closing every door
they could in the face of their enemies, but for what purpose? There was
no escape that way, time was no object to them, whereas it was just
possible that their assailants would expect them to do this and rush
past them. Barrington hastily whispered this possibility to Seth. There
was no time for an answer. The door splintered and broke, and the
foremost ruffians were shot into the room by the pressure of those
behind. There was no rush towards the rooms beyond, nor a shout of
triumph even. The first articulate sound was a cry from the man cut down
by Seth.

In the fierce struggle of an unequal fight a man thinks little. The
forcible present of each moment obliterates the past and future. Just
for one instant it occurred to Barrington that Jeanne might possibly
escape unnoticed if Seth and he fought savagely enough, and the next
moment he was putting this idea into action without any thought beyond
it. In the doorway there were men holding dim lanterns, and the light
flickered on savage faces, now here, now there. The room seemed full of
men, crowded, there was hardly room to fight effectually. Barrington
struck on this side and that, yet his blows never seemed to reach their
destination. For a little while he and Seth were back to back, but had
soon been separated. Now there seemed no order or purpose in the
struggle. It was a nightmare of confusion. A face glared into his for a
moment then disappeared, its place taken the next instant by another.
Strangely familiar faces some of them seemed, memories from dreams long
ago. There had been hands on the estate in Virginia, men he had been
rather afraid of when he was a little child; they seemed to stare at him
now for a moment, lit by a red fire which no longer seemed merely the
light from the lanterns. Then came other faces; that of the man he and
Seth had found on the Tremont road, that of Sabatier's companion at the
inn. Then the faces of the men who had made a rush for the stairs that
night at the Lion d'Or fiercely glared at him; then Mercier's, so close
that he could feel the hot breath upon his cheek. And then suddenly out
of the darkness glowed another face, that of the man who had looked at
him when he was caught in the crowd