He raised her head on his knee, and un corked the vial and held it to her lips.
At that moment there was a quick, rapid knock at the door. It broke startlingly upon the dead stillness.
"Why did I not lock it?" cried Israel, his hand paralyzed, even as it held the vial to the poor girl's lips.
Too late! The door opened, and one by one, six sturdy men, in rough garments and with faces by no means ominous of good stalked into the room.
And over the shoulders of the six, appeared six other faces, all wearing that same discouraging expression. It may not be improper to state that every one of the twelve carried in his right hand a piece of wood, that deserved the name of a stick, perchance, a club.
And shuffling over the floor, they encircled Israel. "Got him," said one who appeared to be the spokesman of the band, "safe and tight! Had a hunt, but fetched him at last. I say, Israel, my Turk, (a gentle hint with a club), get up and redeem your paper!"
And he held a bundle of bank notes,—Chow Bank, Muddy Run, Terrapin Hollow, under the nose of the paralyzed Financier.