"I give your ladyship one minute's time to stand quietly aside," said the Sergeant, roughly. "After that I give my men orders to lay hands on you, and on any one who dares to interfere."
"Give me the letters," whispered Sir Humphrey Challoner, insinuatingly, in her ear. "I can yet save your brother."
"How?" she murmured involuntarily.
He looked up towards the top of the stairs.
"Then he is up there?"
She did not reply. It was useless to deny it, the next few moments would bring the inevitable.
"Stand back, Sergeant," quoth John Stich, defiantly. "I have the honour to protect her ladyship's person against any outrage from you."
"Good words, smith," retorted the Sergeant, "but I tell ye I've been tricked twice by you and I mean to know the reason why. Let her ladyship allow me to search the room upstairs and I'll not lay hands on her."
"Ye shall not pass," repeated the smith, obstinately.
"The letters," whispered Sir Humphrey, "give me the letters and I pledge you my honour that I can save him yet."