ly as she
would have shaken hands with the Consul she reached forward, felt her
enemy, and delivered a cool and well-directed thrust. An appalling
yell answered her, and she stepped back a space, the hatpin held
ready for another attack. There was a tense instant of inaction, and
then the three rushed, and one bowled her over on the floor and fell
with her.

Miss Gregory fell on her side, and before she was well down the steel
hatpin, eight inches long of good Paris metal, plunged and found its
prey. The man roared and wallowed clear, and she rose. The big room
was wild with stamping feet and throaty noises such as dogs make. The
bedside chair, kicked aside struck her ankles; she picked it up and
threw it at the sounds. It seemed to complicate matters. The place
was as dark as a well, and she moved groping with her hands towards
the bed. Some one backed into her--another yell and a jump, and, as
she stepped back, the swish of a blow aimed towards her that barely
missed her. Then she was by the bed, feeling over it; it was empty.

She had some moments of rest; every one was still, save for harsh
breathing. But she dared not stand long, lest their eyes too should
adapt themselves to the dark. It was evident that nobody had
firearms; there was that much to be thankful for. She gathered
herself for an attack, a rush at the enemy with an active hatpin,
when something touched her foot. She bent, swiftly alert for war, but
arrested the pin on its way. It was a hand from under the bed; her
protege had taken refuge there. She took his wrist and pulled; he
whimpered, and there was a grunt from the middle of the room at the
sound, but he came crawling. She dared not whisper, for those others
were moving already, but with her cool, firm hand on his wrist, she
sank down on all-fours and drew him on towards the door. It was
impossible to make no noise, but at any rate their noise was
disconcerting; the robbers could not guess what it betokened. Each of
them had his stab, a tingling, unaccountable wound, a hurt to daunt a
man, and they were separately standing guard each over his own life.

They encountered one half way across the room. He felt them near him,
and sent a smashing blow with a knife into the empty air. Miss
Gregory, always with that considered and careful swiftness that was
so like deliberation, reared to her knees, her left hand still
holding the youth's wrist, and lunged. Another yell, and the man,
leaping back, fo