8Without considering what she was doing, impelled only by her own horror at seeing Hector in such a plight, Iona ran down the staircase. She had, however, set but one foot onto the stone floor of the Great Hall when a stern voice asked,
“What is all this?”
The men who were gathered round Hector and talking amongst themselves turned hastily towards the Duke who unobserved had entered the Hall from a door on the far side.
Iona stood still.
She was nearer to Hector than the Duke and with a kind of hypnotised fascination she watched his approach. Dressed for dinner in a satin coat of silver grey embroidered with pearls, he was in strange contrast to Hector who was tousled and dirty, his coat torn, his stockings ripped from knee to ankle. Yet Hector faced the Duke fearlessly, his head held
