elt himself seized violently from
behind and flung backwards.

The darkness was filled with voices and shouting, and the street seemed
suddenly to have grown alive with men.

It all happened so quickly that afterwards Forrester could remember no
details, but, above all the din and tumult, he could hear Peg's voice
raised in a wild scream of entreaty.

"Ben--Ben--for God's sake!"

The scuffle was all about him as he stood with his back to the locked
gates trying to see what was happening, and to free himself of her
encumbering body, but her arms were round his neck, and as by main force
he tried to unclasp them and throw her aside a terrific blow fell
somewhere from out of the darkness--not on him, but on the girl who
clung to him so frantically; and suddenly she sagged against him and
would have fallen but for his upholding arms.

There were running steps in the street, and the shrill blast of a police
whistle rose above the discord as the crowd of hooligans broke and
scattered in all directions, panic-stricken.

Forrester laid Peg on the pavement, still keeping his arms about her. He
felt confused and dazed; he could not realize what had happened.

One of the police who had come upon the scene turned the light of his
lantern on Peg's face; the blow that had struck her had torn her hair
down, and it lay in a tangled mass about her white face, but her eyes
were open and fixed on the Beggar Man.

"Peg! Peg!" he said hoarsely.

It was the first time he had ever called her by her Christian name, and
a little smile wavered across her face.

"I--I saved your life, anyway----" she whispered weakly, and then more
softly still, "It's like a novelette!" said Peg, and closed her eyes.

CHAPTER XIII

It was midnight when Forrester got back home; he let himself into the
dark house mechanically. He felt drunk with shock and the horror of all
that had happened. He groped blindly along the wall and found the
switch, flooding the hall with light, and as he did so he heard a little
sound close to him on the stairs and a smothered cry.

He wheeled round sharply, and came face to face with his wife. She was
at the foot of the stairs, dressed for travelling, and she clutched a
small dressing-case in one shaking hand.

Forrester stared at her stupidly for a moment, and then his eyes turned
to the clock. It was on the stroke of midnight! So late--and Faith going
out! He tried to think, to understand, but his brain wor