"What be you go'n' to do with that stick?" she asked, as she placed herself in front of me.
But I saw that she had a reasonable respect for the stick, and she was milder than I had seen her twenty times before. I looked about me to see if there was any other flight of stairs which would take me to the street, or to the back yard, which opened into a lane by the shore of the river. From the lower hall a door opened into the saloon; and this was the way by which I had come up. I stood in the hall with my back to a door, which I concluded must lead to the rear of the house. Without turning around, I opened this door.
"What be you a-doin'?" demanded Mrs. Boomsby, when she saw that she was flanked; for a glance behind me revealed the back stairs. "Parker Boomsby, come right up here, this minute!" she called down the front stairs.
"I won't trouble the captain," I interposed. "I have a word to say to you before I go, Mrs. Boomsby. I don't think you knew there was a snake about three feet long in the room where your husband made me a prisoner."
"A snake!" gasped the lady of the house, starting back with alarm. "I don't believe a word on't!"
But she did believe it, whatever she said.
"Yes, a snake; and I have no doubt he is a poisonous one, put there to bite me, and make an end of me, so that the captain could get possession of the steam-yacht!" I continued, rather vigorously, for I was afraid I should be interrupted by the coming of the captain.
"A snake in this house! a pizen one, too!" groaned Mrs. Boomsby.
"He was put in the closet; and when I opened the door he came out and made a spring at me. I left him in that room."
"Didn't you kill him, Sandy Duddleton? You used to kill snakes."