"The first sound you make," he observed softly, "I'll shoot you like a dog."
"Better knock 'im in the 'ead," suggested a hoarse voice, "it'll save a lot of trouble."
I heard Manning laugh, as though he found the suggestion amusing.
"I have a better plan for dealing with Mr. Dryden, Craill," he remarked. "Do you think you can carry him to the house?"
The other made no answer, but, stooping down and gripping me round the waist, hoisted me over his shoulder as though I had been a sack of flour. Considering that I turn the scale at fourteen stone, the fellow's strength must have been prodigious.
Manning opened the gate for us, and we passed out on to the lawn.
Every step Craill took gave me a fresh thrill of pain, but the physical suffering I felt was nothing to the agony of rage and mortification that was tearing at my heart. The devilish ingenuity by which I had been trapped only added to my torture, for since the contents of Christine's letter were known to my captors, it was only too probable that her position was as dangerous as my own.
As we reached the verandah Manning's voice once more broke the silence.
"You had better put our friend down for a moment," he said. "We shall have to borrow his key to get into the house."
With a heave of his back Craill let me fall heavily on the stonework, and moving up to where I was lying Manning ran his hand quickly through my pockets.