She took her father's arm and stood the very picture of defiance, looking scornfully at Melun and his men. “Very well,” said Melun, quietly; “have your own way.” “Now we will proceed to business,” he continued, “and I will ask you ladies and gentlemen to be quick; my time is short, and if we are to leave free of interference there is not much time to spare. “You, gentlemen,” he said, addressing the men, “collect all the jewellery that the ladies hand you, pass it on, and throw it here.” He pointed to the floor at his feet. The men hesitated, looking one to another; and one boy, more bold than the rest, jumped forward and cried, “Never! you dirty scoundrel!” And he dashed across the floor towards Melun. Melun let him come on, and it said something for the coolness of the man that he did not even fire, but waited till the lad was upon him. Then he swung round, and catching him on the back of the ear with the butt of his pistol, sent him sprawling senseless to the floor. After that there was no demonstration of any kind. With almost feverish haste the women began plucking the jewels from their hair and from their bosoms, from their wrists and from their necks. Trembling, they handed them to the men standing in a row before them. One by one bracelets and necklets and tiaras were tossed on to the floor at Melun's feet until there slowly grew a glittering pile of jewels. And then it became obvious that Melun had provided against every contingency and had counted on complete success. For at a word from him one of the masked men came forward with a rough sack, into which he threw the jewels with as much care as he might have bestowed upon a heap of coals. When the fellow had gathered them all up Melun made a little bow of mockery. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “I have to thank you for your hospitality and for your generosity. With your kind permission I will now withdraw.” Suddenly a bold, clear, full voice spoke from the little gallery in which the musicians sat cowering. “Unfortunately,” said the voice, “I fear that you have not my permission.” All the guests started and turned involuntarily to see whence came the challenge. Melun looked up quickly and stood staring with amazement. For stepping down the staircase which led from the little gallery came Westerham, smiling serenely. CHAPTER XVIII AT THE EMPIRE The better to show his contempt for the people whom he was robbing, Melun had put away his revolver. This little piece of play-acting cost him dear. As he saw Westerham coming down the stairs his hand went to his hip-pocket. But Westerham was first, and covered him in an instant. “Put up your hands!” he ordered. Melun obediently threw up his hands. The other masked men now covered Westerham, but Melun cried out sharply: “Stop that! No firing!” For he knew who was the best shot, and who was likely to be quickest; and he had no desire to risk his own skin.