It might have been the devil himself, or
some terrible unknown wild animal clad somewhat to resemble a man,
so far as the startled guards could make out. It clawed right and
left, hurled one of them against the wall, dashed another through
the door into Madame Roussillon's room, where the good woman was
wailing at the top of her voice, and felled a third with a stroke
like that of a bear's paw.
Consternation was at high tide when Farnsworth, who always slept
with an ear open, reached Roussillon place and quickly quieted
things. He was troubled beyond expression when he found out the
true state of the affair, for there was nothing that he could do
but arrest Alice and take her to Hamilton. It made his heart sink.
He would have thought little of ordering a file of soldiers to
shoot a man under the same conditions; but to subject her again to
the Governor's stern cruelty--how could he do it? This time there
would be no hope for her.
Alice stood before him flushed, disheveled, defiant, sword in
hand, beautiful and terrible as an angel. The black figure, man or
devil, had disappeared as strangely as it had come. The sub-
Lieutenant was having his slight wound bandaged. Men were raging
and cursing under their breath, rubbing their bruised heads and
limbs.
"Alice--Mademoiselle Roussillon, I am so sorry for this," said
Captain Farnsworth.
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