e eye of avenging
Heaven, I strike down the fury that blinds you, and I scare back your
soul from the abyss!"

So ineffably grand were the man's look and gesture--so full of sonorous
terror the swell of his matchless all-conquering voice, that Losely, in
his midmost rage, stood awed and spellbound. His breast heaved, his eye
fell, his frame collapsed, even his very tongue seemed to cleave to the
parched roof of his mouth. Whether the effect so suddenly produced might
have continued, or whether the startled miscreant might not have
lashed himself into renewed wrath and inexpiable crime, passes out of
conjecture. At that instant simultaneously were heard hurried footsteps
in the corridor without, violent blows on the door, and voices
exclaiming, "Open, open!--Darrell, Darrell!"--while the bell at the
portals of the old house rang fast and shrill.

"Ho--is it so?" growled Losely, recovering himself at those unwelcome
sounds. "But do not think that I will be caught thus, like a rat in a
trap. No--I will--"

"Hist!" interrupted Darrell, dropping the brand, and advancing quickly
on the ruffian--"Hist!--let no one know that my daughter's husband came
here with a felon's purpose. Sit down--down I say; it is for my house's
honour that you should be safe." And suddenly placing both hands on
Losely's broad shoulder, he forced him into a seat. During these few
hurried words, the strokes at the door and the shouts without had been
continued, and the door shook on its yielding hinges.

"The key--the key!" whispered Darrell.

But the bravo was stupefied by the suddenness with which his rage
had been cowed, his design baffled, his position changed from the
man dictating laws and threatening life, to the man protected by his
intended victim. And he was so slow in even comprehending the meaning of
Darrell's order, that Darrell had scarcely snatched the keys less from
his hand than from the pouch to which he at last mechanically pointed,
when the door was burst open, and Lionel Haughton, Alban Morley, and
the Colonel's servant were in the room. Not one of them, at the first
glance, perceived the inmates of the chamber, who were at the right of
their entrance, by the angle of the wall and in shadow. But out came
Darrell's calm voice:

"Alban! Lionel!--welcome always; but what brings you hither at such an
hour, with such clamour? Armed too!"

The three men stood petrified. There sate, peaceably enough, a large
dark form, its hands