, Jenks, an' get busy!
Come, move, you coyote--Jones, hustle him along. Now, Captain, there's a
good place ter stand, in between those windows. Mistress Claire--"

I was all ready, pistol in hand, burning with a determination to shoot
Fagin down, yet her voice halted him.

"Wait!" she cried, standing erect and scornful. "I will not consent to
this. I am going to leave this room."

"Oh, I reckon not," and he leered into her eyes. "Don't rouse me, or
yer'll find out I'm a wolf ter bite. Yer get back there beside Grant, or
I'll make yer."

"You will? You dare not!"

"Don't I, Mistress?" he cried savagely, "I'll show yer."

He reached forth one great hand, the fingers gripping her sleeve, but she
wrenched away, the cloth tearing as she sprang back.

"Fagin, I know you, but I am not afraid of you. I know you for a cruel,
cold-blooded murderer, an outrager of women, a thief, and an outlaw. No,
you cannot stop me now. You are a low-down cowardly cur, making war on
women and children, sneaking around in the paths of armies, plundering
and looting the helpless. I despise you and every man associated with
you. Neither you, nor all your company, can make me marry Captain Grant.
I will die first. No, don't move, and don't think you are dealing with a
frightened girl. I am desperate enough, but I can act--"

"Hell! Jones, take that hell-cat by the arms!"

"Jones will do nothing of the kind--and you--stand back, Fagin; don't
dare to lay a hand on me again!"

Her face was white, her lips set, her eyes blazing, but Fagin, assured of
her helplessness, laughed, and stepped forward. From what hidden
concealment it came I know not, but there was the flash of a polished
barrel, a sharp report, the whirl of smoke, and the brute went backward
over a chair, crashing to the floor, with hands flung high over his head.
I was aware of the swift rush of a body past me, of steps going up the
stairs, and then, with a yell, my men poured out from the library into
the hall.

CHAPTER XXXV

THE FIGHT IN THE HALL

Scarcely comprehending that Claire had escaped from the room, I was swept
forward by the onrush of bodies. The preacher was knocked headlong
beneath the table, but Fagin lay motionless underfoot. Jones and Grant
turned to a door at the right, and I leaped after them. One of the two
fired, and the ball struck my shoulder, the impact throwing me back
against one of my men. An instant I felt sick and dizzy, yet realized I
w