“You’re right, ma’am,” said Jimmy; “it’ll be better for you. I have a dog in the yard that’ll bark fit to wake the dead if e’er a one comes near the house during the night; and I’ll leave word with Bridgy that she’s to waken you in good time if so be anything was to happen; but with the help of God there’ll be no need for that.”
“Come,” said Miss Blow at last; “we can do no more to-night. Let us get some sleep, if any of us are able to sleep.”
CHAPTER XXIV
It was three o’clock in the afternoon of the day which followed their capture, and the two Members of Parliament showed no signs of becoming reconciled to their situation. Mr. Sanders grumbled and occasionally swore. Mr. Dick passed from bursts of violent rage to fits of lamentation over the desolate condition of Mrs. Dick. Dr. O’Grady and Patsy Devlin bore with them patiently for a long time. But there are limits to human endurance. After a consultation with Patsy, the doctor undertook to speak seriously to the unreasonably afflicted men. The bearded anarchist who usually attended to the wants of the prisoners, carried off the dinner things. Dr. O’Grady pulled Mr. Dick’s bed out to the middle of the floor.
“Now,” he said, “sit down on that, the two of you in a row, till I try if I can’t talk sense into you.”
“Why,” said Mr. Sanders sulkily, “why should we sit there and be talked to by you?”
“There are two reasons why you should,” said Dr. O’Grady. “The first is because I want to talk to you, and I can do that much more conveniently if you’re seated in a row in front of me than if you’re scattered about all over the room. Does that satisfy you, or must I give you the second reason?”
“I won’t be talked to by you,” said Mr. Dick. “You’re in league with the infernal scoundrels who have locked us up here.”