"There wasn't no others," explained Joe. "Only a bitin', scratchin' she-devil." He got up suddenly, and, tiptoeing lightly to the door, peered out into the passage. "Yus," he added, "she's still there, blarst 'er."
"It's the old woman who opened the door," explained Nancy. "Joe tied her up and gagged her so that she shouldn't be able to interfere. There doesn't seem to be any one else in the house."
"Then the quicker we get out of this the better," exclaimed Colin. "They've probably only gone round to the nearest pub, and now the cellar's flooded they may be back any minute."
"It's all right," said Nancy. "I've got Mark's pistol with me."
"You would have," returned Colin admiringly. "All the same, it would be madness not to make a bolt for it while we've got the chance. We shall have plenty of time to talk when we're safe outside." He extended an arm to each of them, and with their joint assistance scrambled painfully to his feet. "You'll have to help me along at first," he added; "my legs are so cramped I can hardly move a step."
"I was afraid they'd killed you," said Nancy, with a queer little gulp. "There was blood all along the passage."
"Oh, that wasn't mine," returned Colin reassuringly. "That belonged to one of the other gentlemen whom I happened to kick in the face."
"We may as well taike this with us," observed Joe, stuffing the remainder of the rum into his pocket. "Nah, doctor, you 'ang on tight to me, an' don't you worry yerself abaht nothin'. We ain't bein' stopped this journey, not if we runs into the 'ole stinkin' pack of 'em."
He slipped an arm like a steel cable round Colin's waist, and, preceded by Nancy carrying the candle, they staggered out into the corridor.
"Don't you mind treadin' on 'er," continued Joe, as they approached the squirming figure on the floor. "She's one o' them wild cats that it don't pay to be perlite with."