“That was too much for her. My wife ain’t afraid of rats or men, but that cellar was too much for her. She cleared out by the kitchen door, and run all the way home. I can tell you I was scairt myself, the way she looked when she come pantin’ in. She ain’t a hand to carry on; I never seen her that way; and when she said there was something wrong over here—why, I believed her. I was just thinkin’ about puttin’ my hat on, when he,” indicating Jasper, “showed up! Then the missus she had another fit. She says it must have been the captain livin’ down in the round cellar the last five years, ever since he was supposed to be dead, and if it was, he was a crazy man by this time, and it was all tom-foolishness to leave the lady here in the house with him loose. And if it wasn’t the captain, it wouldn’t be anything that we could catch anyhow, but for the Lord’s sake to hurry!”
As he stopped whispering the footsteps upstairs ceased. There was a new sound. Something was being dragged across the floor.
We did not stand and talk about it any longer. The judge seized the poker and vanished up the kitchen companionway.
“Even a man with a broken arm can guard a door that’s nailed tight shut,” he called back.
Will Dove made for the front door.
“I’ll watch outside,” he said. “I’ve got a gun.”
The other three men fell into a single file. Jasper flourished a gourd that had hung over the sink; Alf had a great glass paperweight; Caleb Snow came last, with his winkle-fork ahead of him.
“Good-by,” said Jasper. “I may never see you again!”
I laughed, and to my own ears it had a horrid sound.
“It’s more likely,” I answered, “that you won’t see anything up there.”