"Nonsense," cried Mrs. Narby, going to the girl. "Wot shud he lock it fur, I'd like to knaow, an' 'im gittin' orf th' fust thing in th' mornin'? Ho," Herries heard her shake the door violently, "locked it is. Blimme, if he ain't gorn with th' key, 'aving locked the bloomin' door. I'll have th' lawr of him. Elspeth, git outside, an' up t' th' front winder. Them trellises mek quite a ledder."
"I'll do it," said Narby, quickly.
"You're too 'eavy. Ony a light shrimp like Elspeth cud git h'up. I don' want my trellises mussed up. Elspeth!"
"I'm afraid." Herries heard the girl say timidly.
"Y' ain't! Wot cause 'ave y' t' be afraid, y' mealy-mouthed, little, silly slut. Up y' go, or----" evidently a fist was raised at this point.
"She shan't," growled Narby, who seemed to have more decent feeling than his wife. "Here, stand aside!"
"If y' break th' door, it means poun's an' poun's," screamed the virago. The listening man heard a crash, and an angry ejaculation from Mrs. Narby at the destruction of her property. Then came a wild cry from Elspeth, an oath from the landlord, and finally a panic-stricken silence. With his fears again knocking at his heart, Herries jumped up, and hurriedly slipped into his trousers. Scarcely were they on, before Narby burst into the room, white-faced and savage. Behind, came his wife, bellowing like a fury of the Revolution. Elspeth in the meanwhile had fainted in the passage.
"You killed him!" shouted Narby fiercely, running towards Herries, and flung him like a feather on the bed.
"Killed--killed--whom?" gasped the young man, bursting into a cold perspiration.
"The gent as came last night. He's lying next door with his throat slit, you murdering devil!"