Now, old man; her
legs, sharp!"

Roach stood for a moment as if bewildered. Then at an oath from his
companion, he stepped forward, threw his arms round the struggling
woman's legs, lifted her up, and in spite of her smothered cries bore
her right to the end of the passage.

"Down with her; pantry," said the footman, sharply, and they carried her
quickly down the basement to the butler's pantry, where they laid her on
the table.

"Fetch the trunks, old man," said Arthur, loudly. "I can manage.
Quiet, you old cat, or I'll choke you!"

He tightened the coat with a couple, of twists as he spoke, but the
faint cry continued.

"Bah! let her squeak; she might howl for a month, and no one could
hear."

This, for the butler looked unnerved. He went up directly, though, and
as soon as he was gone Arthur put his face to the coat, close to the old
lady's ear.

"You just listen," he said. "You've had your innings, and led me a
pretty devil of a life with your nasty ways. It's my turn now. Quiet,
curse you! Stop that row, or as sure as you're a living woman now,
you'll want a coffin to-morrow."

"What--what is it you want. Money?" came faintly.

"Never you mind what we want, old girl. There, you needn't kick and
struggle; we don't want to carry you off and marry you by force, so lie
still. Ah, that's right; look sharp. My Gladstone, not yours. Get out
the rope."

The butler, whose face was now mottled with white patches, opened one of
the portmanteaus and took out a cord.

"Now come here and lay hold. If she begins to squeal again, tighten
your grip a bit."

But the woman lay perfectly still now, and she did not even wince when
the footman twisted the rope tightly round her ankles and knotted it
fast.

"Now then, over on her face, guv'nor. I must have these wrists tied
behind, or she may begin to scratch."

The helpless woman was turned over, her wrists firmly secured, and she
was then laid on her side and the coat taken off, to reveal her wide,
staring eyes, and teeth set, with the lips drawn right away.

"You've killed her, my boy," whispered the butler in a hoarse voice.

"Bah! Old cats like that have got nine lives," said the man,
contemptuously. "Here, give me a clean glass cloth, and I'll shove a
gag in her mouth."

"No, no. She's bad enough as it is," whispered the butler. "Let her
be."

The footman looked at the old housekeeper dubiously, and then
unwillingly gave up his project.