My uncle, smiling contemptuously upon the rogues, asked quietly, “Do you know anything of this, nephew?”
I answered steadily, “Nothing! Nothing!”—but must have flushed for my lie; the woman Barwise cried out instantly, “He’s lying! He’s lying! look at him,—all red-faced now, when he was sick and white afore”—and rushing on me, clawing at my jacket, “Where’s it hid? You know! Where’s it hid?”
But instantly my uncle intervened—concerned now for my knowledge, and by the dread that all these rogues should share the secret. He ordered her, “Stand back, woman! Do you hear me? Stand back!” in so threatening a tone that she recoiled and loosed me.
My uncle, gripping me by the shoulder, drew me beside him; I had taken up the pistols fallen from his father’s hands; now we stood with our backs against the chimney-piece, and my grandfather’s body lay between us and the rogues. Oliver came shouldering his way among them to our side, a hunting crop clutched in his hand. Mistress Barwise, as beside herself, screamed out a curse at us, and shook her fist, so inciting them that in a sullen surge they were sweeping forward, when my uncle, livid with rage, cried out, “Back, you fools,—back! Do you know this, that while you waste your time here, Bradbury returns, with Gavin Masters and his folk, who’ve sworn to smoke us out of this hold? Do you know this and palter?”
“Ay, then stand aside,” retorted Mistress Barwise, “and let us have the handling of the lad there. He knows for sure, and we have the means to make him talk”—and pointed to the fire. “He’ll speak for the burning of his bare flesh. He’ll speak, if he knows to keep his mouth shut now, means to keep it shut come Judgment Day!”
“You’ll not lay hands upon him!” said my uncle, as I made play with the loaded pistol. “Give me a word with him alone! All of you out of the room now! Let me but reason with him!”
“And plot to rob us!” Thrale squeaked.
“Nay, nay!” my uncle protested, smiling.
The Barwise woman, swinging round, muttered and whispered with old Thrale; turning back to us presently to say, “We’ll go—but only outside the door. But we’ll keep the key, lest you think to lock us out.” Oliver had drawn away from the hearth to the wall.
“Surely take the key, Barwise,” said my uncle. “But a few words with my nephew, and you’ll know whether he will confide in me or no. And if he prove intractable, I promise you that I’ll hand him over to you for discipline”—I believed that the gentleman found himself at a loss to prevent their participation in my secret.