Evil seemed to surround her. Had any other man touched her like this,
she would have called to Sydney Fellowes, so far had she believed in him
and trusted him.
"Barbara, you shall love me!" he went on, holding her so that she was
powerless. "Love shall be sealed, my lips on yours."
"Help! Save me from this man!" Her fierce, angry cry woke the echoes. In
a moment there was the sound of hurrying feet, the sudden opening of a
door, and again a shaft of light cut through the hall. Men and women
rushed in from the adjoining room with loud and eager inquiry. Then Sir
John, closely followed by Lord Rosmore.
"Quick! More lights!" he said. "Who is it screaming for help?"
"Is it some serving-maid in distress?" cried Branksome.
"Or a fool too honest to be kissed," laughed a woman.
"Barbara!" Sir John's exclamation was almost a whisper. Lights were in
the hall now, brought hastily from the room beyond. Some had been put
down in the first place that offered, some were still held by the
guests. Fellowes had turned to face this wild interruption, and Barbara
had wrenched herself free from his arms as he did so.
"A love passage!" laughed Fellowes.
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