"He's killing the poor boy, I'm afraid," she said, clasping her hands. "Why, why need he be so violent? I told him not to harm him."
Next she heard Jack's voice in angry tones, but could not understand what he said. This was followed by a fresh shower of kicks at the resisting door.
"I would go up if I dared," she thought; "but I am afraid I should see the poor boy dying."
She feared, also, her husband's anger at any interference; for, as she had reason to know, his temper was not of the gentlest. So she stood anxiously at the foot of the staircase, and continued to listen.
Meanwhile Jack, finding he could not release himself readily, bethought himself of his wife.
"Meg!" he called out, in stentorian tones.
His wife heard the summons and made haste to obey it.
She hurried upstairs, and, opening the chamber door, found herself, to her surprise, in darkness.
"Where are you, Jack?" she asked, in some bewilderment.