"To let you escape?" said Leigh, firmly. "No; whether that convulsion means death or life to your victim, sir, you are my prisoner till the police are here. You--woman, go to the door, and send for or fetch the police." The housekeeper started forward, but with one heavy swing of the arm Garstang sent her staggering back, and then approached Leigh slowly, with a half-crouching movement, like some beast about to spring. "Stand away from that door, and let me pass," he said, huskily. "Go back and sit down in that chair," said Leigh sternly; and he now stepped slowly and watchfully toward him. "Stand away from that door," said Garstang again. "Hah!" ejaculated Leigh, as he caught a glimpse of something in the man's hand; and he sprang at him to dash it aside, when there was a flash, a loud report, and as a puff of smoke was driven in his face, Leigh spun round suddenly, and fell half across the farther table with a heavy thud. At the same moment, Garstang thrust a pistol into his breast, darted to and flung open the door, to run right into the hall, where he was seized by a man, and a tremendous struggle ensued, Garstang striving fiercely to escape, his adversary to force him back toward the staircase; chairs were driven here and there, one of the marble statues fell with a crash, and twice over Garstang nearly shook his opponent off. But he was wrestling with a younger man, who was tough, wiry, and in good training, while, in spite of the desperate strength given for the moment by fear, Garstang was portly, and his breath came and went in gasps. "Here, you girl, open the door; call help--can't hold him!" came in gasps. A low wailing sound was the only response, and poor Becky, who was by the front door, with her face tied up, covered it entirely with her hands, and seemed ready to faint. The struggle went on here and there, and once more there was the gleam of a pistol and a voice rang out: "Ah! coward, fight fair." As utterance was given to these words the speaker made a desperate spring to try and catch the pistol, his weight driving Garstang back, whose heels caught against a heavy fragment of the broken piece of statuary, and its owner went down with the back of his head striking violently against another piece of the marble. The next moment, fainting and exhausted, his adversary was seated on the fallen man's chest, wresting the pistol from his grasp. "Thought he'd done me. Here, you're a pretty sort of a one, you are! Why didn't you call the police?" "Oh, I dursen't! I dursen't!" sobbed Becky. "You dursen't, you dursen't!" grumbled the speaker. "Hi! help, somebody! Hi, Kate! are you in there? What, Doctor! Then you've got here, after all. I did go to your house." For Pierce Leigh suddenly appeared at the library door, where he stood, supporting himself by the side. CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN. "I say, he didn't shoot you, did he?"