“No lies, girl! You do know. You were expecting him from Portsmouth this very night. I knew he was coming home with his prize-money; so did you. I don’t want his money, but I want him. I have sworn to take him, dead or alive, and have him I will. You have seen him: I have not. Now tell me where he is, and I will let you go; but if you tell me not, down you shall go headlong into the well at the bottom of this yard!”
The truth burst upon the poor girl’s mind, that this fellow was watching Laud to murder him. She was now convinced that it was Laud who came to the back-kitchen door, and that he must have gone over the garden palings towards the Woodbridge Road, instead of going into the street. With a woman’s heart beating high at the danger of her lover, she inwardly rejoiced, even at this dreadful moment, that her sudden words had perhaps saved Laud’s life. She forgot her own loss, and her spirit rose to reply firmly and boldly to the cowardly rascal who threatened her—
“I do not know where Laud is. I wish I did; and I would let him know that such a villain as you are ought to be hanged.”
The monster seized her, gagged her mouth with a tow-knot, and tried to pull her away from the gate. She had seized hold of the long iron bar, which was fastened to a low post, and fitted into a staple on the door. She thought she heard voices outside the gates, speaking of her. Just as the villain lifted her from the ground to fulfil his determined purpose, she swung the iron against the door with such force, that the servants outside were convinced something was wrong. They called, but received no answer. They heard footsteps receding from the door, and called to Smith, the cowkeeper, to know what was the matter. They did not receive any immediate answer, but a light streamed under the door, and in another moment they heard a scuffle, and Smith’s voice calling for help.
With their united force they burst the gates open, and ran down the yard. The candle was burning on the ground, and Smith prostrate beside it. In a moment after, they heard the bucket of the well descending with rapidity, and then a sudden splash, as if a heavy body had reached the bottom of it.
Smith recovered quickly from his fall, and declared he saw a sailor-looking man, carrying a female in his arms, and he firmly believed that she was thrown down the well. He got his lantern, and directed the men to take down the long church ladder, which was hung up under the roof of the cowhouse, and bring it after him. The ladder was put down the well, and Smith descended with his lantern, and called out that there was a woman in the well.
“Unhank the bucket: tie the rope round her body, and ease her up the ladder; we can help you to get her out so.”
This was done: and when she was drawn up, the servants recognized the features of Margaret Catchpole.
Smith was quite sure the man he saw was in sailor’s dress. It was a providential circumstance that the very act of gagging had prevented the water getting to her lungs, and so saved her from drowning. She breathed hard, and harder still when the gag was removed, and was very black in the face. She had received a severe blow on the head from her fall against the bucket, the iron of which had caught her gown, and was the cause of its descending with her to the water. She might have had a severer blow against the sides of the well but for this circumstance. She was quite insensible, and in this state was carried home, where she was laid between warm blankets, and the doctor sent for. She was quickly bled, and was soon restored to conscious animation.