"Now, young serpent," he said, "the reckoning day has come at long and last 'twixt you and me! You have got to tell me where the old chap keeps his keys, and that mighty sharp—or I will see the colour of your blood, sorrowful son o' mine though you be!"
But Cleg maintained a steady silence. Whereupon his father set his fingers to his throat.
"I know a way to make you speak," he said. "Sal, take him by the feet and throw him over that bed."
Sal Kavannah did as she was bid, and between them they threw Cleg across his own bed with his head hanging down on the other side.
"Don't ye be thinking," said his father, bending over him, "that because I had the ill luck to be father to the likes o' you, that will do ye any good."
Cleg still held his peace, biting speech down with a proud, masterful heart. He was resolved that, even if he killed him, his father should not draw a single word out of him.
At that moment a loud clang sounded through the archway which led into the dark house of Barnbogle. Cleg's eyes went in spite of him towards the door. He knew that in a moment more the General would appear in the doorway; and he feared that his father would kill him with the revolver which, when on business errands, he always carried attached to his waist by a leather strap.
Cleg started up as far as he could for his bonds and his father's fierce clutch upon his throat.
"General," he cried, "run back to the strong-room—back as fast as you can to the strong-room!"