"My lady, go--go, for the love of heaven! Quick, West! Quick! Trip him! It's the only way! Ah!" They went down in a fearful, struggling heap.

Sir Giles underneath, but making so violent a fight that the whole room seemed to shake.
And Anne stood and looked upon the whole ghastly spectacle as one turned to stone.
So standing, propped against the wall, she saw the young under-footman come swiftly in, and had a glimpse of his horrified face as he leapt forward to join the swaying, heaving mass of figures upon the floor.

His coming seemed to make a difference.

Sir Giles's struggles became less gigantic, became spasmodic, convulsive, futile, finally ceased altogether.

He lay like a dead man, save that his features twitched horribly as if evil spirits were at work upon him.
The whole conflict had occupied but a few minutes, but to the rigid watcher it had been an eternity of fearful tumult.