“That’ll be easy enough,” said Smith. “There’s a ventilator over all the doors, you know. We can hand the things in there.”
“I vote the old Hen gets precious little,” interposed Rathbone. “I wouldn’t give her any.”
This idea was scouted, and it was resolved that all the prisoners should have a sufficient, though, at the same time, a limited amount of provisions. That being arranged, the next question was, when should we begin? We had to take a good many things into account in fixing the important date. To-day was Friday. The butcher, some one said, always brought the meat for the week on Monday; but the baker never came till the Wednesday. So if we began operations on Monday we should have a good supply of meat but very little bread to start with; and it was possible, of course, the baker might smell a rat, and get up a rescue. It would be better, on that account, to defer action till after the baker’s visit on Wednesday. But then the washerwoman generally came on the Thursday. We all voted the washerwoman a nuisance. We must either take her a prisoner and keep her in the house, or run the risk of her finding out that something was wrong and going back to the village and telling of us.
“If we could only keep it up a week,” said Smith, “I think we could bring them to terms.”
“Suppose we drop a line to the washerwoman the day before not to call,” suggested I.
The motion met with universal applause, and I was deputed to carry it out at the proper time. The good lady’s address I knew was on a slate in Miss Henniker’s pantry.
“And I tell you what,” said Smith, starting up with the brilliancy of the suggestion; “let’s hide away all the bread we can find, except just what will last over to-morrow. Then most likely she’ll tell the baker to call on Monday, and we can begin then!”
It was a brilliant suggestion. Two of the company departed forthwith to the larder, and unobserved hid away a few loaves in one of the empty trunks in the box-room.
Our plans were ripening wonderfully. But the most difficult business was yet to come. What terms should we require of our prisoners as the price of their release? And on this point, after long discussion, we found we could not agree. Some were for the immediate dismissal of the Henniker; others demanded that she should not be allowed to speak without special permission; and others that she should remain in her parlour all day long, and come out only for prayers and to give orders to the tradesmen.
These proposals were too absurd to take seriously; and as presently the company began to grow a little quarrelsome over the matter, it was decided for peace’ sake that the question should be deferred, and terms arranged when the prisoners themselves offered to give in.