But what was this strange noise in the distance that made Miss Slopham pause in her reading, and sent a pallor across her cheek?--a sound as of the dragging of a heavy body through the private hallway leading from her kitchen--a sound as of a struggle, and of scuffling and heavy breathing, and loud mutterings. It flashed upon her in an instant that she had forgotten the little window in the store-room. Had Ogla-Moga escaped? What had happened? But she made an effort and resumed: "I ask this because--" "Mither of Moses! what are ye a-doin'? Let go me hair, or I'll scrame for the perlice;" and forthwith there went up just outside of the drawing-room door a scream in the unmistakable voice of Bridget, which must have reached the traditionally absent policeman, no matter how far he was away. The company had now started to their feet in astonishment and fright. "Queltzcoatchstepukulistini!"--or that was what the response sounded like. Another scream from Bridget. "Akuishnapaccademipechacquinishcrekepa!" In another instant an extraordinary group reeled into the doorway--Ogla-Moga, with his robes torn and spattered, his paint smeared out of its original lines and colors, and his face furrowed with scratches inflicted by the hands of Bridget--Ogla-Moga drunk, utterly drunk, and brandishing in the air a glittering carving-knife; and Bridget--alas! drunk too--with her hair in the firm grasp of the Indian, who was pulling her along. There was a universal shriek of horror. Three of the ladies bolted through the only door which the Indian did not occupy, and which opened into a small bedroom. They frantically pulled it shut, just as three other ladies seized the knob on the outside and tried to pull it open. As luck would have it, Miss Ayr and her mother and Mrs. Blenkin were on the inside, and the two Misses Pound were on the outside--a fact which did not seem to diminish the natural anxiety of the ladies on either side of the door for their personal safety. At all events, the tug of war went on. Mr. Blagg showed extreme terror, and being plainly reduced by the same to a state of utter intellectual confusion and imbecility, made an insane attempt to scale the heights of a large what-not in the corner of the room, which, of course, promptly came over with him, hurling him to the floor with great violence, and falling directly upon him, while it covered his body and the larger part of the floor with the fragments of unprecedented teapots and alleged salad-bowls. Mrs. Gottom and her niece barricaded themselves in the corner with a sofa, and armed themselves with huge photograph albums to be hurled at the enemy; while Professor Phyle, who was a prominent member of the Peace Society, quietly stepped into the window recess, and drew the curtains in defence of his person and his principles.