“So it was you! And were you hurt?” asked Hamilton, anxiously, and stopping to look at his companion. Strange to say, he had, until that moment, forgotten what he had heard at the theatre! “No, not much; my shoulder is bruised, I believe, but my head fell on the ground, and I was insensible for some minutes. Some one, probably Oscar, must have seized the horses’ heads and forced them backwards. When I recovered, I felt myself supported by him, and recognised his voice immediately. There was a terrible stamping of horses, and noise, and swearing about us, and I made a violent effort to walk. With Oscar’s assistance, I reached the next street; he proposed my going into his lodgings for a few minutes until I felt stronger, which I at first refused, but becoming so faint when we were passing his house that I could scarcely stand, I thought it better to go willingly than perhaps be carried there in a state of insensibility. A lamp was burning in the room when we entered, and wine was on the table; he poured me out a glass without speaking, which I immediately drank, and then sat down on the sofa to rest. In the meantime, he walked silently up and down the room, and then returned to the table, where he quickly swallowed several tumblers of wine. Alarmed by his manner, I immediately stood up, and declared that I was quite able to return home. If he were not disposed to accompany me, I would go alone. His answer was locking the door and placing the key in his pocket.” “And you?” asked Hamilton, quickly, “what did you do?” “I cannot describe the undefined terror which this proceeding caused me; but, on seeing the dagger, with which he had once so frightened me, lying on the table, I suddenly seized it and retreated towards the stove. He asked me what I meant; but I only answered by repeating the words, ‘Open the door—let me go—let me go.’ He, however, then informed me that he had no intention of doing either the one or the other; he was determined for once that I should hear him, and answer him; and he ordered me peremptorily to give him the dagger. I, of course, refused, and—and——” “Well,” said Hamilton, breathlessly. “A violent struggle ensued; he wrested it forcibly out of my hand, and, I believe, in trying not to hurt me, was wounded himself, for I saw blood trickling down the blade as he held it triumphantly up in the air. In springing to the other side of the stove I found a bell-rope. Perhaps I wrong Oscar, but I believe the fear of that bell alone preserved me from further insult.” “He must have been perfectly desperate,” observed Hamilton, taking a long breath.