By the light of the tallow candles, which they had brought with them, the two proceeded, in spite of the remonstrances of the soldier. The door admitting into the larger apartment of the lady, and into which we were introduced at our first acquaintance with her, was open, but the inner door to her own private chamber was barred. A slight rustling was heard within, as they listened, as of one putting on clothing.
"We have tracked the fox to his den," whispered Spikeman. "Open instantly," he added, aloud, "or we will burst in the door."
"Who are ye," inquired a woman's voice, "who, in the dead of night, assail the rest of innocent folk?"
"Open at once," cried Spikeman, impatiently, "or we will tear down the house."
"I will not open," said the voice. "That were to assist you in your lawless proceedings. I may be murdered, but will lend no aid to my murderers."
"Silly woman," said the Assistant, who felt unwilling to resort to violence with a woman, believing that his prey was perfectly secure within—"silly woman, we are no murderers. I require thee, by authority of the Commonwealth, to unbar the door."
"Ye cannot be officers of the State," answered the woman, "else would ye not proceed thus rudely. Ye are robbers and assassins."
"We must not stand here trifling," said Spikeman. "Throw thyself against the door, Ephraim, and burst it in, since we are resisted."
His companion, accordingly, endeavored, by flinging the whole weight of his person against the barrier, wherein he was assisted by his superior, to break it down; but in vain, the stout planks defeating all their efforts.
"Bring an axe, quickly!" cried Spikeman. "We will try the virtue of steel blows."