"This is the way," said Ben, "we manages the wild beastesses when they shuts their ears to all sorts of argument. Now, marm, if you please, a little this way."
Ben looked about until he found a strong hook in the wall, over which, in consequence of his great height, he was enabled to draw the rope, and then the other end of it he tied securely to the leg of a heavy secretaire that was in the room, so that Mrs. Oakley was well secured.
"Murder!" she cried. "Oakley, are you a man, that you stand by and see me treated in this way by this big brute?"
"I can't see anything," said Mr. Oakley; "there is such a singing in my ears; I told you so before—I can't see anything."
"Now, ma'am, you may just say what you like," said Ben; "it won't matter a bit, any more than the grumbling of a bear with a sore head; and as for you, Mr. Tulip, you'll just get down on your knees, and beg Mr. Oakley's pardon for coming and drinking his tea without his leave, and having the infernal impudence to speak to his daughter."
"Don't do it, Mr. Lupin," cried Mrs. Oakley—"don't do it."
"You hear," said Ben, "what the lady advises. Now, I am quite different; I advise you to do it—for, if you don't, I shan't hurt you, but it strikes me I shall be obliged to fall on you and crush you."
"I think I will," said Mr. Lupin: "the saints were always forced to yield to the Philistines."
"If you call me any names," said Ben, "I'll just wring your neck,"
"Young man, young man, let me exhort you. Allow me to go, and I will put up prayers for your conversion."