“Well, I hope so,” said Thorne, completing his bandage and tying the knot so as to leave the fingers of his left hand free. “You see, it isn’t pleasant to be riddled up this way.” “Next time you’ll be riddled somewhere else beside the wrist. There’s only one reason why you are not lying there now with a bullet through your head.” “Only one?” queried Thorne. “Only one.” “Do I hear it?” “You do. I gave my word of honour to some one outside that I wouldn’t kill you, and——” “Oh, then this isn’t a little tête-à-tête just between ourselves. You have some one with you?” asked Thorne, interested greatly in this new development, wondering who the some one was who had interfered in his behalf. Perhaps that evident friendship might be turned to account later on. For a moment not an idea of who was there entered Thorne’s mind. “Yes, I have some one with me, Captain Thorne, who takes quite an interest in what you are doing to-night,” returned Arrelsford sneeringly. “That is very kind, I am sure. Is the—er—gentleman going to stay out there all alone on the balcony or shall I have the pleasure of inviting him in here and having a charming little three-handed——” The third party answered the question, for Edith Varney came through the window with the shattered pane through which Arrelsford had fired and entered. Thorne was shocked beyond measure by her arrival, not the slightest suspicion that she could have been there had crossed his mind. So she had been an eye witness to his treachery. He had faced Arrelsford’s pistol with the utmost composure, there was something in Edith Varney’s look that cut him to the heart, yet she did not look at him either. On the contrary, she carefully avoided his glance. Instead she turned to Arrelsford. “I think I will go, Mr. Arrelsford,” she said in a low, choked voice. “Not yet, Miss Varney,” he said peremptorily. The girl gave him no heed. She turned and walked blindly toward the door. “I don’t wish, to stay here any longer,” she faltered. “One moment, please,” said Arrelsford, as she stopped, “we need you.” “For what?” “As a witness.” “You can send for me if you need me, I will be at home.” “I am sorry,” said Arrelsford, again interposing, “I will have to detain you until I turn him over to the guard. It won’t take long.” The middle window was open and he stepped to it, still keeping an eye on Thorne, and shouted at the top of his voice: “Call the guard! Corporal of the Guard! Send up the guard to the telegraph office!” The note of triumph in his voice was unmistakable. From the street the three inside heard a faint cry: “What’s the matter? Who calls the guard?” “Up here in the telegraph office,” said Arrelsford, “send them up quick.” The answer was evident sufficient, for they could hear the orders and the tumult in the square below. “Corporal of the Guard, Post Four! Fall in the guard! Fall in! Lively, men!” and so on.