Not so, when I heard Ferguson bid the man mount and fetch the keg. Had he come without a light I might still have controlled myself and kept quiet; and holding my breath though I were suffocated, and silencing my heart though I died, might have lain and let him pass in the darkness. Nay, had I crouched low, he need not have observed me with a light; for I was a little beside the stairhead, and to enter the room whence I had broken out he need not face me. But when I heard him stumbling upwards, a sudden sense of the loneliness of the house in that far corner of town came on me; and with it, an overwhelming perception of my helplessness and of the life and death struggle to which the men below were committed--so that death seemed to be in the air; which together so far overcame me that I did the last thing I should have expected. As the man came up the stairs, the light in his hand, I rose up and stood, gasping at him.
He paused and held up the light. "The devil!" he said, staring. And then, "Who the ---- are you? Here, Ferguson! Here's your man!"
The only answer from below was a roar for liquor.
"What are you doing here?" he went on, puzzled as much by my silence as my presence.
"I am--going," I stammered; a desperate hope rising in my breast at sight of the man's perplexity. He might let me pass.
For aught I know he would have done so; and it is possible that I might have gone unseen by the open door below and gained the street. But as he stood staring, a second man came into the passage, and looked up and saw me. "Hallo!" he said. "Who is that?"
"Ferguson's man," Keyes answered. "But, boil me, if I know what is the matter with him!"
The other called Ferguson and he came out, and saw me; looked, and with a scream of rage, sprang up the stairs. In the fury of his wrath--he threw himself on me so suddenly and with so much violence and intention that I was a child in his hands; and but for the other's exertions, who not understanding the matter tore him from me, I must have been choked out of hand. As it was I was black in the face, dizzy, and scarcely conscious when they freed me from him: nor in much better case for the respite. For with all they could do he would not release my shoulder, but dragging me down, cried breathlessly and continuously to the others to listen--to listen! That he had the traitor! that I was the informer! the spy, the blood-seller! And with that, and as he partly forced and partly tugged me down the men thickened round me, until dragged into the lighted room I found myself hemmed in by a circle of lowering faces and gloomy eyes, a circle that, look where I might, presented no breach or chance of escape, no face that pitied or understood. He who seemed to be in highest authority among them--afterwards I knew him for Charnock, the unfrocked Fellow of Magdalen, who suffered with King and Keyes--did indeed make Ferguson let me go; thrusting him back and calling on him to tell his tale, and have done with his blasphemy. But though I turned that way in momentary hope of aid, I read no encouragement in a face as stern and relentless as it was fanatical. A lamp hooked high on one wall, and so that it threw its light downwards, obscured half the circle, and flung a bright glare on the other half; but in light or shade, seen or unseen, and whether drink flushed it, or passion blanched it, every face that met my shrinking gaze seemed to be instinct with coming doom.
In such situations fear, which spurs some minds, paralyses others. Vainly I tried to think, to frame a defence, to deny or avoid. The glare of the lamp dazzled and confused me. To Ferguson's passionate iterations, "The Lord has delivered him into our hands! I tell you, the Lord has delivered him into our hands! There is your informer! I swear it! I can prove it!" I could find no answer except a feeble, "I am not! I am not!" which I continued to repeat--while one plucked me this way that he might see me better, and another that way--until Keyes struck me on the mouth, and thrusting me back bade me be silent.
"And you, too, Mr. Ferguson," Charnock said, raising his hand to still the tumult, "have done with your blasphemy. And talk plainly. Say what you know, and have no fear; if what you allege be proved, we will do justice on him."