Page 52 of The Black Moth


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"Do not fire!" he called sharply to the coachman, and bowed to hisGrace. "As I was saying, m'sieu--do not let me detain you, I beg."

The Duke's green eyes flashed venom for a minute, and then the heavylids descended over them again, and he returned the bow exaggeratedly.

"_Au revoir_, monsieur," he smiled, and bent to pick up his sword.

"It will--not be necessary for--m'sieu to--take his sword," said Jack."I have a--desire to keep--it as a--souvenir. Yes."

"As you will, monsieur," replied Tracy carelessly, and walked away tohis coach, his men following close on his heels.

My lord stood leaning heavily on his sword, watching them go, and notuntil the coach had swung out of sight did he give way to the weaknessthat was overwhelming him. Then he reeled and would have fallen, had itnot been for two cool hands that caught his, steadying him.

A tremulous, husky voice sounded in his ears:

"You are hurt! Ah, sir, you are hurt for my sake!"

With a great effort Jack controlled the inclination to swoon, and liftedthe girl's hand shakily to his lips.

"It is a--pleasure--mademoiselle," he managed to gasp. "Now--you may--Ithink--proceed--in safety."

Diana slipped an arm under his shoulder and cast an anxious glance atthe footman, hurrying towards them.

"Quick!" she commanded. "Sir, you are faint! You must allow my servantto assist you to the coach."

Jack forced a smile.

"It is--nothing--I assure you--pray do not--I--" and he faintedcomfortably away into stout Thomas's arms.

"Carry him into the coach, Thomas!" ordered the girl. "Mind his arm,and--oh! his poor shoulder. Aunt, have you something to bind his woundswith?"

Miss Betty hurried forward.

"My darling child, what an escape! The dear, brave gentleman! Do have acare, Thomas! Yes, lay him on the seat."

My lord was lowered gently on to the cushions, and Miss Betty flutteredover to him like a distracted hen. Then Diana told Thomas to take chargeof my lord's horse that they could see, quietly nibbling the grassfurther down the road, stooped and picked up his Grace of Andover'ssword, with its curiously wrought hilt, and jumped into the coach tohelp Miss Betty to attend to Jack's wounds.

The slash on the arm was not serious, but where the pistol had taken himwas very ugly-looking. While she saw to that, Miss Betty loosened thecravat and removed my lord's mask.

"Di, see what a handsome boy 'tis! The poor, brave gentleman! What alucky thing he came up! If only this bleeding would stop!" So she ranon, hunting wildly for her salts.

Diana looked up as her aunt finished, and studied the pale face lyingagainst the dark cushions. She noted the firm, beautifully curved mouth,the aristocratic nose and delicately pencilled eyebrows, with a littlethrill. The duel had set her every nerve tingling; she was filled withadmiration for her preserver, and the sight of his sensitive, handsomecountenance did nothing to dispel that admiration.

She held the salts to his nostrils and watched eagerly for some sign oflife. But none was forthcoming, and she had to be content with placingcushions beneath his injured shoulder, and guarding him as best shemight from the jolts caused by the uneven surface of the road.

Miss Betty bustled about and did all she could to stanch the bleeding,and when they had comfortably settled my lord, she sat down upon theseat opposite and nodded decisively.

"We can do no more, my dear--but, yes--certainly bathe his forehead withyour lavender water. Dear me, what an escape! I must say I would neverhave thought it of Mr. Everard! One would say we were living in theStone Age! The wretch!"

Diana shuddered.

"I knew he was dreadful, but never _how_ dreadful! How can he have foundout when we were to leave Bath--and why did he waylay us so near home?Oh, I shall never be safe again!"

"Nonsense, my dear! Fiddlesticks! You saw how easily he was vanquished.Depend upon it, he will realise that he has made a bad mistake to try toabduct you, and we shall not be worried with him again."

With this comfortable assurance, she nodded again and leant back againstthe cushions, watching her niece's ministrations with a professional andslightly amused air.

CHAPTER XII

MY LORD DICTATES A LETTER AND RECEIVES A VISITOR

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