Winsome Winnie and other New Nonsense Novels | Page 5

"I was
wrong. Wynchgate, your hand."
The two noblemen shook hands.
"My friends," said Lord Wynchgate, "in asking you to abandon our
game, I had an end in view. I ask your help in an affair of the heart."
"Ha! excellent!" exclaimed the five noblemen. "We are with you heart
and soul."
"I propose this night," continued Wynchgate, "with your help, to carry
off a young girl, a female!"
"An abduction!" exclaimed the Ambassador somewhat sternly.
"Wynchgate, I cannot countenance this."
"Mistake me not," said the Earl, "I intend to abduct her. But I propose
nothing dishonourable. It is my firm resolve to offer her marriage."
"Then," said Lord Frogwater, "I am with you."
"Gentlemen," concluded Wynchgate, "all is ready. The coach is below.
I have provided masks, pistols, and black cloaks. Follow me."
A few moments later, a coach, with the blinds drawn, in which were six
noblemen armed to the teeth, might have been seen, were it not for the
darkness, approaching the humble lodging in which Winnifred Clair
was sheltered.
But what it did when it got there, we must leave to another chapter.
CHAPTER V

THE ABDUCTION
The hour was twenty minutes to ten on the evening described in our
last chapter.
Winnifred Clair was seated, still fully dressed, at the window of the
bedroom, looking out over the great city.
A light tap came at the door.
"If it's a fried egg," called Winnifred softly, "I do not need it. I ate
yesterday."
"No," said the voice of the Landlady. "You are wanted below."
"I!" exclaimed Winnifred, "below!"
"You," said the Landlady, "below. A party of gentlemen have called for
you."
"Gentlemen," exclaimed Winnifred, putting her hand to her brow in
perplexity, "for me! at this late hour! Here! This evening! In this
house?"
"Yes," repeated the Landlady, "six gentlemen. They arrived in a closed
coach. They are all closely masked and heavily armed. They beg you
will descend at once."
"Just Heaven!" cried the Unhappy Girl. "Is it possible that they mean to
abduct me?"
"They do," said the Landlady. "They said so!"
"Alas!" cried Winnifred, "I am powerless. Tell them"--she
hesitated--"tell them I will be down immediately. Let them not come up.
Keep them below on any pretext. Show them an album. Let them look
at the goldfish. Anything, but not here! I shall be ready in a moment."
Feverishly she made herself ready. As hastily as possible she removed

all traces of tears from her face. She threw about her shoulders an opera
cloak, and with a light Venetian scarf half concealed the beauty of her
hair and features. "Abducted!" she murmured, "and by six of them! I
think she said six. Oh, the horror of it!" A touch of powder to her
cheeks and a slight blackening of her eyebrows, and the courageous girl
was ready.
Lord Wynchgate and his companions--for they it was, that is to say,
they were it--sat below in the sitting-room looking at the albums.
"Woman," said Lord Wynchgate to the Landlady, with an oath, "let her
hurry up. We have seen enough of these. We can wait no longer."
"I am here," cried a clear voice upon the threshold, and Winnifred
stood before them. "My lords, for I divine who you are and wherefore
you have come, take me, do your worst with me, but spare, oh, spare
this humble companion of my sorrow."
"Right-oh!" said Lord Dogwood, with a brutal laugh.
"Enough," exclaimed Wynchgate, and seizing Winnifred by the waist,
he dragged her forth out of the house and out upon the street.
But something in the brutal violence of his behaviour seemed to kindle
for the moment a spark of manly feeling, if such there were, in the
breasts of his companions.
"Wynchgate," cried young Lord Dogwood, "my mind misgives me. I
doubt if this is a gentlemanly thing to do. I'll have no further hand in
it."
A chorus of approval from his companions endorsed his utterance. For
a moment they hesitated.
"Nay," cried Winnifred, turning to confront the masked faces that stood
about her, "go forward with your fell design. I am here. I am helpless.
Let no prayers stay your hand. Go to it."
"Have done with this!" cried Wynchgate, with a brutal oath. "Shove her

in the coach."
But at the very moment the sound of hurrying footsteps was heard, and
a clear, ringing, manly, well-toned, vibrating voice cried, "Hold! Stop!
Desist! Have a care, titled villain, or I will strike you to the earth."
A tall aristocratic form bounded out of the darkness.
"Gentlemen," cried Wynchgate, releasing his hold upon the frightened
girl, "we are betrayed. Save yourselves. To the coach."
In another instant the six noblemen had leaped into the coach and
disappeared down the street.
Winnifred, still half inanimate with