“A sturdy ghost, as I live!” cried Foxwell, motioning the three fellows at Everell’s back, who had come to a halt at the first intimation of their master’s arrival, to stay their hands. “My niece, too!—the guileless Georgiana!” “Uncle!” she began, scarce able to speak, though her pale face and terrified eyes were eloquent enough; “this gentleman—” “Is my prisoner, till he gives an account of himself. Do you surrender, sir?” “No, sir,” replied Everell. “Then I must reluctantly order these men to take you,” said Foxwell, politely. “Then their deaths be on your head,” said Everell, and turned to make another dash for the gateway, determined this time to spare none who barred the way. To this direction of escape he was limited by his unwillingness to try fatal conclusions with Georgiana’s kinsman. But he was robbed of choice in the matter; for no sooner had he taken two strides than Foxwell, afraid of losing him, leaped down the steps, and shouted, “Turn and defend yourself!” [Illustration: “THE TWO GENTLEMEN MADE THEIR SWORDS RING.”] Fearing that non-compliance might result in the indignity of being struck on the back with the sword while in flight, Everell obeyed. Ere he could think, his blade had crossed that of Foxwell, who a second time bade the three underlings hold off. The two gentlemen made their swords ring swiftly, in that part of the garden near the steps, Caleb moving the lantern so as to keep its light upon them. Georgiana watched in fearful silence, Prudence clinging to her and recurrently moaning, “Oh, lor!” Rashleigh stood on the steps, ready to interfere at call. The combatants seemed admirably matched, and each had reason to admire the other’s fencing. But, to Everell’s relief, it presently became apparent that the elder man’s arm was weakening. The Jacobite now indulged the hope of disarming him. But Foxwell, too, saw that possibility. He beckoned Rashleigh, who thereupon ran forward and struck up Everell’s sword, while the groom and the gardener, obeying a swift command of their master, seized the Jacobite’s elbows from behind. Everell made a violent effort to throw them off, but in sheer strength he was no match for them. Relinquishing the attempt, he said, quietly, to Foxwell, “’Twas scarcely fair.” “For that I beg your pardon,” replied Foxwell, still panting for breath. “In a matter between us two alone as gentlemen, ’twould be dastardly. But I had to take you at all cost. You would not surrender; though you certainly owe me an explanation on one score, and are an object of suspicion on another.” “Oh, Everell!” murmured Georgiana, who had fallen to weeping, and was heedful only of her lover’s plight and not at all of her uncle’s words.