"It's no use your trying that tone with me. I've a right to ask you that question, and I do ask it. Are you Dorothy Gilbert? If you decline to answer I shall conclude that you are, and you're a prisoner."
"You may conclude what you like. While this coward keeps on hurting me, as he is doing now, I'll answer no questions; if he removes his hand from my shoulder I may, but while he continues torturing me I certainly won't."
"Are you hurting her, Jenkins?"
"No, sir; I've just got hold of her tight enough to keep her from getting away."
"Let go of her shoulder! Take her by the arm. Now, young woman, no nonsense. Are you Dorothy Gilbert?"
A voice came from the bank below them; the agitated West had suddenly woke to some consciousness of what was going on behind her.
"Dorothy Gilbert! Who's Dorothy Gilbert? That's not her!' You great stupids, that's not her! That's not her!"
West appeared at the top of the steps--if anything, more agitated than ever.
"Who are you?" asked the officer.
"Is that you, Sergeant Batters? Mr Batters, you know very well who I am--I'm Eliza West, that's who I am. It was me who came to the station and told you where Dorothy Gilbert was, and that hundred pounds reward is mine. I've fairly earned it, I have; I call everyone to witness! If you chaps hadn't been such slowcoaches you'd have her safe enough: it's hardly a minute since she went off with another chap. My 'Gustus--his name's Carter, and his number 294--he took her prisoner, she's his lawful prisoner, that's what she is; only the chap she's gone off with he chucked my 'Gustus into the river, and there he is at this moment, drowned for all I know."