"Let's get it, whatever it is!" said Fox, with an apparent burst of bravery and spirit.
So Bristol at one end and Fox at the other end of the sofa, rolled it out with a great show of caution, while Mrs. Winslow, though preserving a good position for observation, kept nimbly out of the way.
"What can it be?" she persisted excitedly.
"A vial sealed with red wax, with a string attached, and containing some clear liquid," said Fox, stooping to pick it up.
"Don't—don't, Fox!" shouted Bristol, pushing him back impetuously; "the devilish thing may burst and kill us all—nitro-glycerine, you know!"
Mrs. Winslow shuddered, drew her elegant wrappings about her fair shoulders, as if the thought chilled her like the sudden opening of some cold vault, and looked appealingly at the two men.
"Or might contain some deadly poison," said Fox, in a warning tone.
"And the fiend who threw it in here expected the bottle to break and the poison to murder us!" said Mrs. Winslow indignantly.
"Things have come to a pretty pass when attempts like this are made on people's lives!" said Bristol, adjusting his spectacles and edging towards the mysterious missile.
"I shall move at once," stoutly affirmed Mrs. Winslow.