A few minutes later the President and Mrs. Tetson entered the secretary's sitting-room. They found that gentleman sorting out heaps of cartridges, while their daughter sat near him busily scrubbing sections of a Colt's revolver with a toothbrush. The President's face displayed shame and consternation. "God help us! we are ruined," he said, looking from one to another with bloodshot eyes. He produced a yellow cigar from a shabby case, and seated himself close to the window. Suddenly he stood up and looked out. "Who's that?" he asked. "Hemming," came the faint reply. A rifle cracked, and the bullet splintered the slats of the shutter. The President retired into the room and turned off the lights. "Hemming was right. They mean to force me," he exclaimed. Hicks tottered to the window, rifle in hand. The sounds of a violent scuffle arose from the flowerbeds. Hicks could just make out a rolling, twisting mass below. "Hold your fire," gasped a voice which he recognized as Hemming's. Presently the mass ceased its uneasy movements, and divided itself into two equal parts, one of which continued to lie among the crushed flowers, while the other staggered along the wall of the house and entered the dining-room by a window. The President, carrying a revolver awkwardly, hurried down-stairs. Presently he returned, he and Smith leading Hemming between them. Hemming was limp, and his pale face was streaked with dust and sweat. Blood dripped from his left sleeve. His monocle was gone. "Mrs. Tetson, if you'll tie up my arm,--I'll show you how,--I'll be fit as a fiddle," he said, and sank into a chair. "Gun?" queried Hicks, who knelt by the window, with his rifle on the sill. "Knife," replied Hemming. Marion cut away the sleeve of his jacket. "Surely Mr. Cuddlehead did not carry a knife," she said. "I don't think so; I jumped on the wrong man. Heard some one crawling through the bushes, and thought I had him. One of my own troopers--he stuck me in the muscles,--bleeds a bit, that's all," he replied. "There's not a sound in the garden now," said Hicks. "Who fired the shot?" asked Tetson. "A corporal," said Hemming. "He was behind me when you spoke. I didn't know--any one--was near. He'll never--fire another--shot." Then the commander-in-chief fainted on Valentine's bed, and Smith brought him around with cold water and brandy. Then Smith stole away from the villa toward the barracks. It was close upon dawn when he returned. "They think they'll kidnap the President and the ladies, and take them away up-country and hold them for a ransom; it is the stranger's idea," he informed them. The President turned a shade paler, and glanced apprehensively at his wife and daughter. Hicks swore. Hemming sat up and slid his feet to the floor. "They are fools,--and Cuddlehead must be mad," he exclaimed. Tetson went over to his wife. "Can you forgive me, dear?" he asked, huskily. For answer she kissed him.