I almost tumbled in, staggering forward, and hardly able to keep upon my legs, so that I nearly reached the middle of the room before I was aware that the boy was cowering down in a corner upon our rope, and that a big scowling stubble-chinned man had just risen dressed from a bed on which he had lain, to catch me by the shoulders in a tremendous grip, and hold me backwards panting like some newly captured bird.
I noticed that the man wore a great sleeved waistcoat, breeches, and heavy boots, and that his low forehead was puckered up into an ugly scowl, with one great wrinkle across it that seemed like another mouth as he forced me right back against the wall, and held me shivering there.
“Here, shet that there door, Polly,” he said in a low harsh growl, like the snarl of a wild beast. Then to me:
“Here, what d’yer mean a-comin’ in here, eh?”
He accompanied his words with a fierce shake that made the back of my head tap against the wall.
For a few moments the man’s savage look seemed to fascinate me, and I felt horribly alarmed, as I could think for the moment about nothing but the Ogre and Hop-o’-my-thumb, and wonder whether he was going to take out a big knife and threaten me. I was still panting and breathless with my exertions, and there was a curious pain in my legs, mingled with a sensation as if they were going to double up under me, but I made an effort to be brave as the great heavy-browed scoundrel gave me another shake, and said:—
“D’yer hear? What d’yer mean by banging into my room like that ’ere?”
I glanced at a sad-faced dull-eyed slatternly woman who had closed the door, and then at the boy, who still crouched close up under the window, whimpering like a whipped dog, but keenly watching all that was going on with his sharp restless dark eyes; then, making a determined attempt to be braver than I looked, I said as stoutly as I could:
“I want our new rope. He stole our new rope.”
“Who stole yer noo rope!” cried the fellow, giving me another shake; “what d’yer mean?”