At last, one night, the long-threatened explosion took place. A sudden storm of wind and rain swept down from the Black Forest, and the curious vehicle attached to the Hôtel d'Angleterre was sent for to convey Mdlle. de Meronville from the Kursaal to her rooms. The little actress had been playing with great ill-luck, and had been duly waited upon by Lord Ticehurst; but at the moment when the arrival of the droschky was notified to her, he had been called into another part of the room by Plater Dobbs, and only arrived in time to see her, mortified and angry, being conducted to the carriage on the arm of M. de Prailles. Rushing forward to make his excuses, Lord Ticehurst caught his foot in the train of Mdlle. de Meronville's gown, and, amid the suppressed burst of laughter from the bystanders, pulled her backwards and fell forward himself. He had scarcely recovered himself when the roll of the departing vehicle was in his ears, and M. de Prailles was standing before him fuming. "An accident? nothing of the sort! _Exprès! tout à fait exprès!_" A crowd gathered at the ominous words and at the tone of voice in which they were uttered: Plater Dobbs and Gilbert Lloyd foremost among the concurrents, the one flushed and excited, the other cool and collected; Lord Ticehurst, very pale, and with an odd twitching in the muscles of his month. "It was no accident, that tumble!" shrieked M. de Prailles. "It was a studied insult offered to a lady by a barbarian! _Exprès, entendes-vous, messieurs, exprès?_" Then, seeing that his opponent stood motionless, the little Frenchman drew himself on tiptoes, and hissed out, "_Et il ne dit rien? Décidément, milor, vous êtes un lâche!_" and he made a movement as though he would have struck Lord Ticehurst with his open hand. But Plater Dobbs, who had been puffing and fuming and gasping for breath, caught the angry Frenchman by the arm, and called out, "Holla, none of that! We'll produce our man when he's wanted. We don't want any rough-and-tumble here! _Ally, party, mossoo!_" "_Au diable, ivrogne!_" was all the response which M. de Prailles chose to make to this elegant appeal; but he turned to some of his compatriots, and said, "_Regardez donc la figure de ce milor là!_" And in truth Lord Ticehurst was almost livid, and the chair against which he was leaning trembled in his grasp. At that moment Gilbert Lloyd stepped forward. "There's no question of producing any man on this occasion, except a _gensdarme_," said he, addressing Plater Dobbs. A hush fell on the little crowd--the Englishmen silenced by what they heard, the foreigners by the effect which they saw the words had produced. Only Dobbs spoke, and he said, "What the devil do you mean?"