Alice stood by the door a moment before she could open it. Her heart
was still thumping, her voice failed her, she turned white and red in a
moment. The strongest emotion of which she was conscious was the hope
that Arthur had not heard her call him by his name.
She opened the door with a gravity which was almost ludicrous. Her
first words were wholly so.
"Good-evening, Captain Farnham," was all she could find to say. Then,
striving desperately to add something more gracious, she stammered,
"Mamma will be very----"
"Glad to see me in the drawing room?" Farnham laughed. "I have no doubt
of it. She is quite safe there; and your visitors have gone. Will you
join her now?"
She could not help perceiving the slight touch of sarcasm in his tone.
She saw he was hurt by her coldness and shyness, and that made her
still more cold and shy. Without another word she walked before him to
the drawing-room, where Mrs. Belding still sat in her rocking-chair,
moaning and wringing her hands. Mr. Temple was standing beside her
trying to soothe her, telling her it was all over. Bolty was tying the
arms of one of the ruffians behind him, who lay on the floor on his
face. There was no one else in the room.
Alice knelt on the floor by her mother and took her in her arms. "You
are not hurt, are you, mamma dear?" she said, in a soft, tender tone,
as if she were caressing a crying child.
"Oh, no! I suppose not," said the widow; "but I am not used to such
doings at this time of night, and I don't like them. Captain Farnham,
how shall I ever thank you? and you, Mr. Temple? Goodness knows what we
should have done without you. Alice, the moment you left the room, some
of them ran to the sideboard for the silver, another one proposed to
set the house afire, and that vile creature with the red handkerchief
asked me for my ear-rings and my brooch. I was trying to be as long as
I could about getting them off, when these gentlemen came in. I tell
you they looked like angels, and I'll tell your wife so when I see her,
Mr. Temple; and as for Arthur----"
At this moment Bolty, having finished the last knot to his
satisfaction, rose and touched his prisoner with his foot. "Captain,"
he said, saluting Farnham, "vot I shall do mit dis schnide?"
"They have got the one I dropped from the window?"
"Jawohl! on de gravel-walk draussen!"
"Very well. Take them both to the stable behind my house for the
present, and make them fast together. Then come back here and stand
guard awhile with the men on the porch, till I relieve you."
"All right. Git up mid yourself," he said, touching his prostrate foe
not so gently, "and vorwaerts."
As they went out, Farnham turned to Mrs. Belding, and said, "I think
you will have no more trouble. The men I leave as a guard will be quite
sufficient, I have no doubt. I must hurry back and dismiss the friends
who have been serenading me."
She gazed at him, not quite comprehending, and then said, "Well, if you
must go, good-night, and thank you a thousand times. When I have my
wits about me I will thank you better."
Arthur answered laughingly as he shook hands. "Oh, that is of no
consequence. It was merely neighborly. You would have done as much for
me, I am sure." And the gentlemen took their leave.
When the ladies were alone, Mrs. Belding resumed her story of the great
transaction. "Why, it will be something to tell about as long as I
live," she said. "You had hardly got upstairs when I heard a noise of
fighting outside on the walk and the porch. Then Arthur and Mr. Temple
came through that window as if they were shot out of a cannon. The
thief who stood by me, the red handkerchief one, did not stop, but
burst through the hall into the kitchen and escaped the back way. Then
Mr. Temple took another one and positively threw him through the
window, while Arthur, with that policeman's club, knocked the one down
whom you saw the German tying up. It was all done in an instant, and I
just sat and screamed for my share of the work. Then Arthur came and
caught me by the shoulder, and almost shook me, and said, 'Where is
Alice?' Upon my word, I had almost forgotten you. I said you were
upstairs, and one of those wretches was there too. He looked as black
as a fury, and went up in about three steps. I always thought he had
such a sweet temper, but to-night he seemed just to _love_ to fight.
Now I think of it, Alice, you hardly spoke to him. You must not let him
think we are ungrateful. You must write him a nice note to-morrow."
Alice laid her head upon her mother's shoulder, where her wet eyes
could not be seen. "Mamma," she asked, "did he say 'Where is Alice?'
Did he say nothing but 'Alice'?"
"Now, don't be silly," said Mrs. Belding. "Of course he said 'Alice.'
You wouldn't expect a man to be Miss Beldinging you at such a time. You
are quite too particular."
"He called me Miss Belding when he came upstairs," said Alice, still
hiding her face.
"And what did you say to him--for saving this house and all our lives?"
The girl's overwrought nerves gave way. She had only breath enough to
say, "I said 'Good evening, Captain Farnham!' Wasn't it too perfectly
ridiculous?" and then burst into a flood of mingled laughter and tears,
which nothing could check, until she had cried herself quiet upon her
mother's bosom.