"Martin," says he in the same hushed voice, "when a man's dead he's dead, and the dead can never come back, can they, shipmate?"
But now, as we sat thus, eyeing the evil thing on the table betwixt us, my answer died on my lips, for there came a sharp, quick rapping of fingers on the lattice.
CHAPTER XII
TELLETH OF A FIGHT IN THE DARK
Penfeather was at the casement, had whipped open the lattice and, pinning the intruder by the throat, thrust a pistol into his face all in a moment; and then I recognised Godby the peddler.
"Let be, Adam!" I cried, springing forward. "Let be, here's a friend!" Saying nothing, Penfeather thrust away the weapon, and gripping the little man in both hands, with prodigious strength jerked him bodily in through the window; which done, he clapped to the lattice and drawing the curtain stood fronting Godby grim-lipped.
"And now what?" says he softly.
"Lord!" gasped Godby, "Lord love me, but here's a welcome to a pal, here's the second pistol I've had under my nose this night—throttle me in a hayband else!"
"What d'ye seek?"