Patmore remained silent.
“Tell me,” said Westerham again, “and tell me quickly. Tell me at once or you will regret it.”
Patmore gave a sudden wrench and twisted one of his arms free. He reached out and grasped a heavy silver candlestick.
But again Westerham was too quick for him. He dealt him a blow on the muscles of his shoulder which half-paralysed Patmore's arm. The candlestick dropped with a clatter from his hand.
Westerham gave his pent-up passion full play, and it was a miracle that he did not kill his man. He dragged an antimacassar from a chair and used it as a gag. With one powerful hand he dragged Patmore by the neck to the window; with the other he threw up the casement and whistled sharply for Lowther.
Lowther came running up the steps and through the open door.
“We'll bind this cur,” said Westerham through his teeth. And they fastened his hands and his feet together.
“Now then,” said Westerham to Lowther, “heat that poker in the fire.”
For a second Lowther hesitated to obey.