, therefore, nothing mean or
pusillanimous in their attitude when having exhausted their vocabulary
of oaths and still seeing before them the muzzles of four-and-twenty
musketoons pointed straight at them, they one after another dropped
their sword points and turned to read in each other's faces uniform
desire to surrender to _force majeure_.

The Captain watched them--impassive and silent--until the moment when he
too, could discern in the sullen looks cast at him by some twenty pairs
of eyes, that these elegant gentlemen had conquered their impulse to
hot-headed resistance.

But the four-and-twenty musketoons were still leveled, nor did the
round-headed Captain give the order to lower the firearms.

"I can release most of you, gentlemen, on parole," he said, "an you'll
surrender your swords to me, you may go home this night, under promise
to attend the Court to-morrow morning."

Bradden in the meanwhile had gone to the inner door and finding it
locked had ordered his companion to break it open. It yielded to the
first blow dealt with a vigorous shoulder. The lieutenant went into the
room, but finding it empty, he returned and soon was busy in collecting
the various "_pieces de convictions_," which would go to substantiate
the charges of gambling and betting against these noble gentlemen. No
resistance now was offered, and after a slight moment of hesitation and
a brief consultation 'twixt the more prominent cavaliers there present,
Lord Walterton stepped forward and having unbuckled his sword, threw it
with no small measure of arrogance and disdain at the feet of Captain
Gunning.

His example was followed by all his friends, Gunning with arms folded
across his chest, watching the proceeding in silence. When Endicott
stood before him, however, he said curtly:

"Not you, I think. Meseems I know you too well, fine sir, to release you
on parole. Bradden," he added, turning to his lieutenant, "have this
man duly guarded and conveyed to Queen's Head Alley to-night."

Then as Endicott tried to protest, and Gunning gave a sharp order for
his immediate removal, Segrave pushed his way forward; he wore no sword,
and like Lambert, had stood aloof throughout this brief scene of
turbulent yet futile resistance, sullen, silent, and burning with a
desire for revenge against the man who had turned the current of his
luck, and brought him back to that abyss of despair, whence he now knew
there could be no release.

"Captain,"