The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. Mr. Martin came to the stage from his section, his own violin in hand. He had not proceeded far when he was alarmed by the tramp of a horse, which seemed to be rapidly approaching, and he had scarcely time to leap the hedge and conceal himself behind a tree, when a tall man, enveloped in an ample cloak, with his hat pulled over his brows, rode by at full speed. “Yes! I must! The thing is becoming a torture to me. She could have dined alone in her room; but courage had demanded that she face the ordeal and have done with it.
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