"No," he said, doggedly; "my house isn't a prison. You have a warrant, execute it. I will pass those people as they come in."
The men began to expostulate. Ellen Mason trembled with terror, for the carriage was already setting down its burden at her door.
One of the men came to her for counsel.
"Shall we take him away by force, marm?"
"Yes, if it must be—quick."
To her surprise, Thrasher came forward. The expression of his face had changed—there was a gleam of malicious triumph in it.
"Madame," he said, "I consent to remain your guest a little longer." Then, turning to the men, he said: "How many hours shall I be detained in this room with one door and iron shutters?"
"All night," replied the man.
"All night?" There was something more than a question in his voice.
"Yes, yes; we shan't run the risk of taking you out in a crowd—depend on it. Too smart a chap for any risks of that sort."