John impatiently pushed the children before him back into the kitchen.
'You 'old your tongues,' he said, 'an stay 'ere.'
And he made for the door in the kitchen wall. But Arthur caught hold of his coat-tails and clung to them.
'Yer oughtn't to go up there—mother don't let any one go there.'
John wrenched himself violently away.
'Oh, don't she! yo take your 'ands away, yer little varmint, or I'll brain yer.'
He raised his stick, threatening. The child, terrified, fell back, and
John, opening the door, rushed up the stairs.
He was so terribly excited that his fumbling fingers could hardly find the ribbon round his neck. At last he drew it over his head, and made stupendous efforts to steady his hand sufficiently to put the key in the lock.
The children below heard a sharp cry directly the cupboard door was opened; then the frantic dragging of a box on to the stairs, the creak of hinges—a groan long and lingering—and then silence.
They clung together in terror, and the little girls began to cry. At last Arthur took courage and opened the door.