Half an hour passed, and Spencer lit a big cigar. The two men chatted on various topics. Mrs L'Estrange and the Colonel were still doing full justice to the excellent dishes offered them. Miss Keane was apparently satisfied, and sat quietly watching her companions, and throwing in an occasional remark. And suddenly came the loud sound of maroons. Everybody started. A few seconds later the clamour and roaring of our own guns burst forth. There was no doubt as to what was happening. The Germans were making one of their unwelcome visits. "By heavens, it's a raid, and we are in the thick of it," cried Tommy Esmond, rising excitedly. He was a nervous little man, and his face had grown a shade pale at the sound of the first boom. In a few moments there was a stampede from the dining-room. The guests hurried as fast as they could to the basement and cellars. Tommy, in his progress, was impeded by two burly men who were making their way leisurely. Spencer was a few feet in front of him, making for the crowd that surged round the doors. As he looked around the deserted tables, he saw Miss Keane standing alone, her eyes almost rigid with terror, her hands clutching convulsively at the back of the chair on which she had been sitting. It was evident that the Colonel had quickly removed Mrs L'Estrange from the scene of danger, and she had been too panic-stricken to follow them. He crossed over to her. "Excuse me," he said gently--"I am a friend of Mr Esmond's. How is it you are alone? Did your companions desert you?" "Colonel Desmond took my cousin, and told me to keep close behind them. When I got up, my limbs seemed unable to move. I feel as if I were paralysed." He took her arm and put it through his. It was evident she had been rendered immobile by terror. "I will take care of you," he said soothingly. "Downstairs you will be quite safe. But we will let this crowd get through first." Tommy Esmond came bustling up, all anxiety. Truth to tell, he did not feel over brave, but his anxiety for himself was lost in the contemplation of her white face and stricken eyes. Slowly, cheered by the presence of the two men, a little colour flowed back into her cheeks, and she smiled wanly. "I am a fearful coward," she explained. "I go all to pieces in even the mildest thunderstorm." And it was in this wise, amid the crash of falling bombs, and the roar and clamour of our own guns, that Guy Spencer made the acquaintance of Stella Keane. CHAPTER NINE. They found shelter in one of the big cellars of the Restaurant, and Miss Keane by degrees got back some of her courage. There were about twenty other persons in the same refuge, and she probably derived fortitude from their temporary companionship, and common danger. Tommy Esmond recovered himself very quickly, and hastened to observe the conventions.