“Don’t keep the bridegroom out,” said Grace, reproachfully.  Then, in a voice as sweet as his own, “I want to see him; I want to speak to him.”

Jael opened the door slowly, for she felt uneasy.  Raby shrugged his shoulders contemptuously at Grace’s condescending to speak to the man, and in so amiable a tone.

Coventry entered, and began, “My dear Grace, the carriage is ready—­”

No sooner had she got him fairly into the room, than the bride snatched up the stiletto, and flew at the bridegroom with gleaming eyes, uplifted weapon, the yell of a furious wild beast, and hair flying out behind her head like a lion’s mane.

CHAPTER XL.

Dr. Amboyne and Raby cried out, and tried to interfere; but Grace’s movement was too swift, furious, and sudden; she was upon the man, with her stiletto high in the air, before they could get to her, and indeed the blow descended, and, inspired as it was by love, and hate, and fury, would doubtless have buried the weapon in a rascal’s body; but Jael Dence caught Grace’s arm:  that weakened, and also diverted the blow; yet the slight, keen weapon pierced Coventry’s cheek, and even inflicted a slight wound upon the tongue.  That very moment Jael Dence dragged her away, and held her round the waist, writhing and striking the air; her white hand and bridal sleeve sprinkled with her bridegroom’s blood.

As for him, his love, criminal as it was, supplied the place of heroism:  he never put up a finger in defense.  “No,” said he, despairingly, “let me die by her hand; it is all I hope for now.”  He even drew near her to enable her to carry out her wish:  but, on that, Jael Dence wrenched her round directly, and Dr. Amboyne disarmed her, and Raby marched between the bride and the bridegroom, and kept them apart:  then they all drew their breath, for the first time, and looked aghast at each other.

Not a face in that room had an atom of color left in it; yet it was not until the worst was over that they realized the savage scene.

The bridegroom leaned against the wardrobe, a picture of despair, with blood trickling from his cheek, and channeling his white waist-coat and linen; the bride, her white and bridal sleeve spotted with blood, writhed feebly in Jael Dence’s arms, and her teeth clicked together, and her eyes shone wildly.  At that moment she was on the brink of frenzy.

Raby, a man by nature, and equal to great situations, was the first to recover self-possession and see his way.  “Silence!” said he, sternly.  “Amboyne, here’s a wounded man; attend to him.”

He had no need to say that twice; the doctor examined his patient zealously, and found him bleeding from the tongue as well as the cheek; he made him fill his mouth with a constant supply of cold water, and applied cold water to the nape of his neck.

And now there was a knock at the door, and a voice inquired rather impatiently, what they were about all this time.  It was Mr. Carden’s voice.