Musard rose from the table and walked to where the young man was standing.
"Don't get upset needlessly, Phil," he said soothingly, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Sir Philip had also risen from his seat, and for the briefest possible space the three men stood thus, facing each other, as if uncertain how to act.

Then the tense silence of the dining-room was broken by the loud report of a fire-arm.
"Let me go!" cried Phil shrilly, shaking off Musard's arm.

He turned and limped rapidly towards the door, and as he did so his infirmity of body was apparent.

One of his legs was several inches shorter than the other, and he wore a high boot.
Musard reached the door before him in a few rapid strides, and Sir Philip came hurrying after his son.

The rest of the male guests followed, flocking towards the door in a body.
The first sight that Musard's eye fell upon as he passed through the doorway was the figure of Miss Heredith, rapidly descending the staircase.