"Some one is shooting at the house.

Crouch on the floor, for Heaven's sake!" That urgent appeal was emphasized by a fourth bullet, which, taking a lower flight, barely missed Forbes, upset a Venetian glass flower vase on the table, and buried itself in the lower half of the sideboard.
Forbes, heedless of the possible consequences to himself, sprang to his wife's assistance, and, interposing his body as a shield between her and the windows, led her to an angle of the wall where she would be safe.
The younger women, after a momentary hesitation, dropped to the floor and crawled to the same refuge.

Theydon ran out.

The front door was open.
The police had heard the shooting, the sound of which had been deadened to those in the dining room by the breaking glass and china.

But within a few minutes a useless pursuit was abandoned.