She had thought him mad, and in truth it almost seemed as if she were right. He thumped at the door till the echoes in the house rang again, still no one came; the servants were all very far away, and were, moreover, amusing themselves with a game of poker, which was engrossing them far more at that moment than their mistress’s visitors and quarrels. Not successful with the door, Lord Francis tried the window, but it was at least sixty feet from the ground--the jump was certain death--then he fell to smashing sundry bits of bric-a-brac that fell in his way--more to annoy Lucille than because he did not know what he was doing; and finally he rang the bell. The bell brought Lucille’s maid, but she did not open the door, though he loudly demanded that it should be unlocked. The maid found her mistress faint and bleeding on the landing; it was scarcely likely she would open the door till she had tended her, especially as there was no cessation of the smashing inside. Lucille was recovering her senses when the maid arrived, and thus by the help of an arm crawled into her own room, which was not very far distant. The first sentence she managed to pronounce was: “Do not let him out, he is mad. Poor man, he has a dreadful wife who has driven him mad. Set someone to watch the door in case he should force it, and send for Dr. Walton.” It was not for herself that Mme. de Vigny desired the presence of Dr. Walton, for she washed her face, and put some plaster on the wound, which, after all, was not a very serious one, and she was a good deal revived by the time the doctor arrived. Dr. Walton was a personal friend of Mme. de Vigny, that is she had made a friend of him since she had come to New York. She had a wonderful facility for fascinating the male sex and annexing their services, and she felt very certain she could depend on Dr. Walton, or she would not have sent for him. When he did arrive, which was speedily, he was naturally aghast at the injury she had received. She would have allowed him to see it at its worst stage if she had not feared to disillusionize him by the aspect she had presented when the maid found her. “Never mind me,” she said, “I shall be all right in a day or two; but I cannot go on being subject to attacks from that madman, you must remove him; he says I have his child, whereas you know Ronny is my own nephew.” Dr. Walton did not know anything except what she had told him, but he believed in her, and therefore did not think of doubting her statement. “My dear madame, I will do the best I can for you; of course, this must be stopped. Do you think it will be necessary to take--ahem--extreme measures? I have some influence with the police.”