No sooner had the door of the apartments of the women closed upon us three, than Grace O’Malley slipped from my arms and stood up, her faintness—which had been merely assumed—disappearing at once.
“Quick, quick!” she cried, pointing to a door. “There is the stair! That is the way!”
They stopped, however, for a little, to get a couple of heavy cloaks with which they hoped they might be able to conceal themselves somewhat from curious eyes. Short as the time was which this took, it was enough to permit Sabina Lynch to enter the apartment, and she at once perceived not only that my mistress had recovered in a marvellous brief space, but also what our project was.
“Seize her,” said Grace O’Malley, as she and Eva were leaving the room.
I rushed towards the woman, and, clapping my hand to her mouth, prevented her from giving forth the scream she was on the point of uttering. As I was glancing about for something with which I might gag her, and so effectually silence her, my mistress again appeared, and said, her eyes blazing with anger:—
“Bring her with you, if you can; the way is clear.”
“A gag!” I said, and Grace O’Malley made with her own hands one, with which she stuffed Sabina Lynch’s mouth, and next she bound the woman’s arms. Then I took Sabina Lynch up, and in silence we descended the stair which led us into the street some twenty yards from the main entrance into the Mayor’s house.
It was now dark, but not sufficiently so as to hide us completely from observation, and an instant’s thought convinced me that carrying a bound woman, as I was doing, it was impossible to go very far without being seen by someone who would instantly give the alarm. Therefore, still keeping in the shadow of the house, I sent forth into the night the O’Malley battle cry, knowing that our men could not be out of hearing; and the sound had not died away when there arose a great noise and shouting.
“O’Malley! O’Malley! O’Malley!” was heard on all sides.