His hospitable intention, however, met with a rude check, for he had scarcely taken half a dozen steps forward when he found himself looking down the barrel of a revolver. A pleasant, easy voice called on him to stop, and the man stood stockstill, staring stupidly straight in front of him, half-fearfully and half-fascinated by the glint of the six-shooter. The other men poured in quietly and quickly and formed a semi-circle about the door. Three of their number remained outside, covering with their revolvers the two country constables who had been on special duty for the purpose of controlling the traffic. All the men were masked, not only their foreheads, but their faces right down to their chins being hidden in black crape. The man who led them stepped forward and ordered the groom of the chambers back; and the man and his fellow-servants retreated before the advance of the strange intruders. A couple of armed and masked men sufficed to keep the handful of men-servants penned in the corner. Two others were stationed on the stairs to check any advances in that direction, while two others kept the passages closed against all comers. At the head of about twelve men the leader walked swiftly towards the door of the ball-room, where he met Lord Penshurst face to face. For the Prime Minister, growing uneasy at the continued movement in the hall, had come out himself to see what might be on foot. “Get back, Lord Penshurst,” said the leader, still in a pleasant and easy voice; “get back or I will not answer for your life.” The Prime Minister checked himself, but craned his head forward. “By heaven!” he said in a low voice, “I believe that is you, Melun.” “Never mind who I may be, but keep your tongue still. Unless you wish to be quieted, kindly refrain from mentioning names in my presence. “Now turn about, if you please, and get back to the ball-room.” At this sudden confrontation by danger the Prime Minister's troubles were for the moment forgotten, and he was again the strong, courageous man that he had once been. He looked straight and steadily at the veiled eyes of the intruder, and declined to turn about. Instead, he retreated backwards step by step. The music in the ball-room had effectually drowned any noise of the disturbance except to those who stood nearer to the door. Among these was Hilden. He had followed hard upon the Prime Minister's footsteps, and had, at a glance, taken in the position of affairs. Nor did he hesitate for a moment. Breaking into a run, he dashed across the hall towards the little alcove in which he knew were placed the telephone and the police call. As he approached the alcove, however, he was brought to a standstill by a man with a revolver. Melun noted his progress, and turned about and cried, “Keep that gentleman away. If he moves another yard—shoot!” Young Hilden threw one contemptuous glance at Melun and walked on. The man hesitated to fire.