"By force."
"What?" Gage shouted. "Marry me by force?"
"Yes," answered Peckover seriously. "You see, she has brought her brother with her, a dare-devil rampaging brute of a bush-ranger, six foot three tall, and broad in proportion, who sticks at nothing but your favourite vital part with a bowie knife."
"I'd like to see him," Gage observed scornfully
"You will, if you get out of bed and come downstairs," returned Peckover impressively. "Also you will have an opportunity of remarking the havoc he has made with the fire-irons."
"What? Fire-irons?"
"He has been snapping a few pokers and tongs just to show what he will do with you when he catches you."
"What absurd rot," Gage said with rising exasperation. "I never had anything to do with the brute's sister."
"But you have got to marry her," rejoined Peckover quite seriously, "or take the consequences."
"Oh, have I?"