wick--'stand out of my way!'

CHAPTER XVII

MR. FISHWICK, THE ARBITER

Mr. Fishwick, who had stepped forward with a vague notion of detaining
him, fell back. Sir George's stern aspect, which bore witness to the
passions that raged in a heart at that moment cruelly divided, did not
encourage interference; and though one or two muttered, no one moved.
There is little doubt that he would have passed out without delay,
mounted, and gone in pursuit--with what result in the direction of
altering the issue, it is impossible to state--if an obstacle had not
been cast in his way by an unexpected hand.

In every crowd, the old proverb has it, there are a knave and a fool.
Between Sir George bursting with passion, and the door by which he had
entered and to which he turned, stood Lady Dunborough. Her ladyship had
been one of the first to hear the news and to take the alarm; it is safe
to say, also, that for obvious reasons--and setting aside the lawyer and
Sir George--she was of all present the person most powerfully affected
by the news of the outrage. But she had succeeded in concealing alike
her fears and her interest; she had exclaimed with others--neither more
nor less; and had hinted, in common with three-fourths of the ladies
present, that the minx's cries were forced, and her _bonne fortune_
sufficiently to her mind. In a word she had comported herself so fitly
that if there was one person in the hall whose opinion was likely to
carry weight, as being coolly and impartially formed, it was
her ladyship.

When she stepped forward therefore, and threw herself between Sir George
and the door--still more when, with an intrepid gesture, she cried
'Stay, sir; we have not done with you yet,' there was a sensation. As
the crowd pressed up to see and hear what passed, her accusing finger
pointed steadily to Sir George's breast. 'What is that you have there?'
she continued. 'That which peeps from your breast pocket, sir?'

Sir George, who, furious as he was, could go no farther without coming
in contact with her ladyship, smothered an oath. 'Madam,' he said,
'let me pass.'

'Not until you explain how you came by that fan,' she answered sturdily;
and held her ground.

'Fan?' he cried savagely. 'What fan?'

Unfortunately the passions that had swept through his mind during the
last few minutes, the discovery he had made, and the flood of pity that
would let him think of nothing but the girl--the girl carried away
screami