“No more—escape—there is gold—escape—hide yourself from the eye of man for ever!”
“No,” said Pigtop, giving him a remorseless shake. “Do you see this scar?”
“Let him go instantly, Pigtop!—obey me—I have promised his mother—it is sacred.”
“For my sake!” said Sir Reginald.
At this instant, the steward rushed in, partly dressed, crying out, “Sir Reginald, Sir Reginald, the constables and the magistrates have broken down the hall-door, and are now coming upstairs, to arrest the housebreakers—they have packed up all the plate, and it lies in the hall, ready to be carried off?”
“My God! It is too late,” said Sir Reginald, wringing his hands.
“No,” said I; “let him escape by the window. Be so good, sir,” said I to the priest, “to secure the door—we shall gain time. Hold it as long as you can against all intruders. The scaffolding will enable the culprit to reach the ground with comparatively little danger.”
The priest obeyed; and not only fastened the door, but also barricaded it with furniture.
“Now, Pigtop,” said I, “if you wish to preserve my friendship, assist this poor wretch to escape—he is paralysed with his abject fears. Come, sir,” addressing Joshua, “you will certainly be hung if you don’t exert yourself.”
“He’ll be hung yet,” said Pigtop sulkily. “But I am an old sailor, and will obey orders—nevertheless, I know that I shall live to see him hung. Come along, sirrah!”