"Stove it in, you blundering old sea-cook!" said another voice, she recognized as Captain de Vere's.
"Easy saying so, but hard doing it, by G—," was the reply.
"You bungler! let me try."
An awful crash followed, which made Ellen almost sicken with fear, but the strong door manfully withstood the charge. Again it was rocked as if by a battering-ram, again it stood the shock; a confused sound of laughter and oaths followed.
"I telled you so; the devil himself could scarce stove yon oaken beams in."
"Fire and furies! what is to be done?—here's a d—d sell—sold by a wench."
"Deil a fear; this way, Captain."
The steps faded away, they were gone. Ellen felt sure she was now safe, at least for a time; though she feared they were gone for sledgehammers to force the door. She threw herself on her knees, and thanked God for it. It is not wise to be in too great a hurry to return thanks; this Ellen found, for hardly had she thanked Providence for mercies not yet received, than she heard the same footsteps in another part of the room. In dismay at this return, she glanced to see where the sounds came from. There was only one door, the windows and fireplace were barred; but Ellen did not know the secrets of her prison-house; behind the arras was a secret door, to which a winding back stair led, and she only sprung from her knees in time to see the tapestry move aside, and from the concealed door three figures enter her sanctuary. It was with a sickness of heart indescribable, but not the less acutely felt by those who cannot tell its horror, that she saw in the three intruders the persons of Captain de Vere, Captain L'Estrange, and old Bill Stacy!