“Would you steal?” Oliver growled. “Are you thief?”
He answered, snarling, “Ah, God, what I’ve endured these years, and now this boy would rob me. I’ll have what’s mine. I care not how you fare, nephew—whether they do you to death, or drag you aboard the Black Wasp—I care not. I’ll have what’s mine, and be away ere Bradbury comes!”—and thrust the panels back, and fumbled with the lock, but could make nothing of it.
I laughed at him. “My uncle,” cried I, “it’s for me to dictate terms. Your interest with these rogues for me, and I’ll make you rich; but the secret of the lock I’ll keep!”
He whirled round upon me, his mask off, his face malignant, his lips snarling. He let the tapestry fall before the hollow in the wall. He pointed to the door. It had parted asunder, the wreckage fell against the bar.
Chapter XXXIV. Flight of Crows
Mrs. Barwise headed them still—Lord, what a strength must have been hers in youth; even now her withered hands tore at the wreckage of the door. Her sons and she had cleared a way presently; the bar was drawn, and all the rogues were in the room once more. But, setting my back against the chimney-piece, with Oliver beside me, I levelled my pistol as they came on, menacing, and I cried out, “Keep back! You’ll not lay hands on me. Back, I say!”
At this Mrs. Barwise checked her onrush; and whirled round towards my uncle stepping back from the wall. The rogues at her back halted and peered at us, muttering among themselves; Nick and Isaac Barwise and Blunt’s men yet held apart. The woman demanded furiously of my uncle, “Well? Well? What’s the answer? You’ve not tricked us after all, d’ye see? D’ye see? What’s his answer?”
He said coolly, “I’ve no answer for you. Ask him!”
As she swung round and faced me, I said, as bravely as I might, though shaking still for terror of them, “My answer is that there’s no treasure. Ay, and were there treasure, every gold piece or jewel of it would belong to me, even as, now my grandfather is dead, this house belongs to me. And I say to you you’d best be packing while you may. You there from the Black Wasp, d’ye know that while you’re paltering here your ship’s cut out? D’ye know the King’s men are aboard her?”
“Bold words, but lies!” cried Mistress Barwise.