Pemberthy, they would have made a plunge at Sophie Tarne for partner
had not the captain, very white and stern now, stood close to her
side with a pistol at full cock in his right hand.
"I shall shoot the first man down who touches you," he said, between
his set teeth.
"I will get away from them soon. For heaven's sake--for mine--do
not add to the horror of this night, sir," implored Sophie.
He paused.
"I beg your pardon," he said, in a low tone of voice, "but--but I
am powerless to help you unless I quell these wolves at once. They
are going off for more drink."
"What is to be done?"
"Can you sing, Mistress Pemberthy?"
"Yes, a little; at least, they say so," she said, blushing at her
own self-encomium.
"Sing something--to gain time. I will slip away while you are singing,
and get the horses round to the front door. Do not be afraid."
"Gentlemen," he cried, in a loud voice, and bringing the handle
of his pistol smartly on the head of the man nearest to him to
emphasise his discourse, "Mistress Pemberthy will oblige the company
with a song. Order and attention for the lady!"
"A song! a song!" exclaimed the highwaymen, clapping their hands
and stamping their heels upon the floor.
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