“By hivvins, the girl do be in throuble!” he muttered anxiously. “Ave it do be the blackguard we be lookin’ for—sure!” And without further hesitation, Smith rushed up the steps and into the house.
Again the cry of “Help!” rang out.
“I’ll help ye, darlint, be me soul, I will that. Hould him for wan minnit, and I’ll attind to him. Oh, the skulkin’ blackguard! ’E do be a bad divil, so ’e do. Just lave him to me, darlint; lave him to me, and I’ll settle his nerves wid this bit of fir.”
By this time Smith had mounted the stairs, when he was again startled to hear her cry: “Help! Oh, hasten, or blood will be shed!”
“I’m comin’, darlint. Hould him wan minnit and I’ll attind to him.” Upon entering the room, he at once seized Rutley’s hands and twisted them behind his back.
“A bit of stout cord, miss, is what we want to bind the divil.”
“Hold him!” and she flew to the linen closet.
“Hould him, is it!” exclaimed Smith, with a laugh. “Sure, miss, yees nadn’t hint that to me at all, at all. Indade, miss, it’s a nate bit ave wurruk well done, and I do be proud of yees, too, so I do.”
Virginia soon entered the room with a stout piece of cord, which she handed to Sam, saying, “Oh, I’m so thankful for your opportune arrival!”
On seeing Rutley thoroughly secured, and her excitement subsiding, Virginia expressed her gratefulness to Sam and Smith for rescuing her from what she believed to be a terrible fate, then snatching up the shawl from the floor, flew down the stairs with a cry of pain on her lips for Constance.