He swung around, showing the revolver which he had been concealing behind him, and moved to one side until his back was against one of the pillars.

By this time, most of the other occupants of the ballroom had either rushed screaming away altogether, or were hiding, peering out in fascinated horror from the different recesses.

The chief maitre d'hotel bravely held his ground and came to within a few paces of Immelan.
"We can't have any brawling here," he said.

"Put that revolver away." Immelan took no notice of the intervener, except that for a single moment the muzzle yawned in the latter's face.

The maitre d'hotel was a brave man, but he had a wife and family, and after all, it was not his affair.