“A little less noise, please, gentlemen.  A duchess and a princess are dining in the next room.”

“A duchess and a princess?” exclaimed one of the men.  “We should like to see the duchess and the princess that would dine here.  By God!  A duchess and a princess!  Come, gentlemen, let us introduce ourselves.”

Accordingly the three of them made a dash for the door of the small dining room and entered.  Immediately a series of screams came from the princess and the duchess, announcing that the intruders were introducing themselves.  Instantly Hamilton drew his sword and hastened to the rescue.  When he entered the room he saw one of the men embracing Nelly and another trying to seize Frances.  His first attention was given to the man with Frances.  He struck him with the hilt of his sword, stunning him for the moment, but the fellow soon recovered, and the three ruffians drew their blades.

Finding himself assailed from all quarters, George made a dash for a corner of the room, where his back and flank were protected.  In telling me of it afterward, Frances said that she and Nelly were so badly frightened that they could neither move nor scream.  The deafening noise of the clashing swords, the tramping of the heavy boots on the bare oak floor, the blasphemous oaths of the drunken ruffians, and the stunning din of battle almost deprived her of consciousness.

After a time all that she could see was Hamilton’s face behind the curtain of flashing swords, and all that she could hear, even above the din, was his heavy breathing.  He had thrown off his doublet and was fighting in his shirt sleeves, desperately, and it seemed hopelessly.  Soon the blood began to stream down his face, and the white linen of his shirt was covered with red blotches.

No man can stand long against odds of three to one, but, for what seemed a very long time to Frances, Hamilton defended himself gallantly, and seemed to be giving back as much as he received.

But the fight could not have lasted much longer, and sooner or later, George would have been cut to pieces, had not little Betty entered the fray.  No weapon had she, not even a teapot, but she ran bravely in, knelt behind one of the ruffians, and when an opportunity came, seized him by the foot, bringing him down to the floor with a thud.  Quickly another foot was in Betty’s deadly grasp, and another man fell, leaving only one assailant standing, whom Hamilton soon routed.  The two men on the floor attempted to rise, but Betty clung to their feet, and George’s sword quieted them.

When George was satisfied that the ruffians would not try again to introduce themselves to the duchess and the princess, he wiped his sword on Betty’s five shilling table linen, remarking:—­

“I thank you, Betty dear.  You came into the fight just in time to save my life.  Another half minute and I should have needed a coffin.”  He was breathing heavily and spoke with great effort.