Malherb began tearing down the black hangings that separated him from the study; Bickford lent a hand. Behind them came Putt and his uncle, in hasty converse.
Sergeant Bradridge explained that he was here to capture Cecil Stark and take him back to the War Prison; while Thomas in few words told the news, and related how that Peter Norcot had stolen Grace Malherb from her home and was even now supposed to be wedding her against her will by special license.
"'Tis him an' the Lord Archbishop against Mr. Malherb an' me an' Bickford here; an' I'll back us," said Putt; "an' if you want to make him a friend for evermore, you'd better lend a hand to catch this here Peter Norcot; for if I know him, the man will take a darned lot of catching. He may have scented John Lee's work and be off a'ready."
"Close up!" ordered Malherb. "Here's a locked door; but I heard voices behind it. Stand by while I break it down, and help me to take him if he shows fight."
He fired his pistol into the lock of the door, blew it out, and then dashed into the pitchy darkness beyond.
He felt a woman against him, and Gertrude Norcot's voice was lifted.
"Stand back, Maurice Malherb; you are doing a wicked and a dangerous thing. My brother——"
"Where is he?—let him answer for himself. Who are here in this Egyptian darkness? Grace—Grace—speak! It is your father."
"Dear father—oh, listen, I pray you, and try to understand. All is well—all will be well. Peter has been most good and generous. He——"
"Light!" shouted Malherb. "Who can breathe in this inky air? Hold the door, Putt. Let no man escape while I make for the window and let in day."