With a great cry Westerham leapt forward, but he was too late to exercise that vengeance which had now full possession of his soul. Melun flung Kathleen to one side, and for a second turned his pallid face, in which his eyes were burning like a madman's, full on Westerham as he dashed on him. Then without a sound he leapt aside, and vaulting on to the sill of the open window, jumped out. Instinctively Westerham knew what was coming, and catching Kathleen to him, held her head against his breast, stopping her ears with his hands. As his palms closed upon them his heart grew sick as he remembered the dreadful thing which had come to Downing Street earlier in the day. But to his unutterable joy—joy which was almost a shock—his hands told him that Melun's hideous warning had been but a brutal hoax. Kathleen was never told of it. Then as he stood there with his eyes bent on her hair, he heard the sickening sound of Melun's body thud on to the stones below. Releasing Kathleen's ears, he put his hand under her chin and lifted up her face. He marvelled that she had not fainted, but the dreadful horror in her eyes struck into his heart like a blow. He had to hold her to prevent her falling to the floor, and so he stood for some few seconds with Kathleen limp and shivering in his arms. Bracing himself for one last effort, Westerham lifted Kathleen up and bore her out of the room. Half-dazed, he stumbled down the stairs with her until he reached the hall. In the doorway he saw Lord Penshurst, still clinging grimly to Patmore's collar, but at the sight of Kathleen the Premier released his hold and came running forward with outstretched arms. “Just a minute,” said Westerham, quickly, and he walked into the room, the door of which he had shattered. In the meantime Mendip and Lowther had picked up Mme. Estelle and carried her into the same room, and now she lay on the couch, her face growing grey with the shadows of death, and her breath coming fast and feebly. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling with an intense and horrible fixity. Westerham pushed an armchair round with his foot and set Kathleen down on it so that her back was turned to the dying woman. Lord Penshurst fell on his knees beside the chair, and seizing his daughter's hands, held them against his breast, and for a little while wept quietly. Westerham crossed over to Mme. Estelle and stood over her. He put his hand against her heart and listened to her breathing. “I am afraid,” he said in a low voice to Mendip, “that we can do nothing for her. It is a bad business. Heaven forgive her for anything she has done amiss! She did her best to make amends.” Then he drew Lowther out of the room and told him to fetch a lamp from the car. Patmore was sitting on the stairs with his face hidden in his hands. “Never mind him,” said Westerham, as Lowther gave the man a glance, “we shall have no more trouble from that quarter.”