Was this the end? If so, he would meet it calmly, but not until he had made a fight. Then he would meet Fate with a smile, for she had been good to him. Perhaps an all-wise Providence had decreed that man must fight on to the bitter end, and to punish him for his presumption in attempting to alter an unalterable law had led him on only to destroy him just as he, with his petty little mind, thought he had reached the goal. The Count was now laughing and explaining to Jones what was going to happen to him, to the United States, and especially to Edestone, and Jones was beginning to look as if he thought there might be some truth in what he was saying. It was nearly half-past eight when the long-expected ring at the front door came. The Count laughed out loud in triumph. “Mr. Edestone,” he said, “don’t you think that it is just about time to ask for terms? It is not too late even now. You are a game man, and I hate to see you go to destruction when it is not necessary.” The ring was followed by another longer than the first. Edestone was leaning well over the table and looking at the Count with a light in his eyes like that in those of a tiger about to spring. “I return the compliment,” he said. There was now heard on the outside much noise and confusion. The bell was rung again and the sound of someone violently shaking the front door was followed by the breaking of the glass in the iron grille. Above this din, which was really not so great as it seemed to the overwrought nerves of the three men who had sat looking at each other for the last forty minutes, there came the unmistakable rattle of machine-guns, which at first was distant and light in volume, but with incredible rapidity increased until it was a roar that seemed like a great wave rolling up from the southern part of the city. Edestone, who knew that this meant that the Little Peace Maker must have been sighted by the German look-outs on the roofs, ran to the window. The Count hesitated for just one moment, as if there were two forces within him fighting for mastery, and then with a quick movement he made a jump for the door. “Sit down, you dog!” cried Edestone turning just in time to see him, and he sent a bullet crashing through the door just above the Count’s hand where it rested on the knob. Count von Hemelstein stopped, and turning braced himself to receive the ball that he thought must certainly follow. “Come back and sit down, you poor thing. If you cannot keep your word without help, I will help you next time.” But the soldiers on the outside, on hearing the shot, redoubled their efforts to get in, and now could be heard running around the house and trying the other doors. In the midst of all this uproar, Lawrence came down, and in imitation of one of his favourite characters, the sailor who announced to Captain Sigsbee the sinking of the _Maine_, said: