"Go back to bed," she repeated. She put out her hand and touched him, but she did not look at him, being unable to resist the fascination of the sight in the street.
"What do they want?" he whispered. He put his hand on an old-fashioned what-not behind him, and the shells and ornaments on it began to rattle.
"I don't know," she said; "don't let 'em see you; you couldn't do anything against so many. They are a band sworn to protect one another."
"His friends?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Ah, I see." He glanced at the two doors, one opening into the hall, the other into his room, and then he swayed and clutched the curtain.
She caught his arm and braced him up. "Oh, you must go lie down; you'll—"
A noise outside drew her back to the window. The band was crossing the street to the jail.
"What are they going to do?" He steadied himself, resting his hand on her shoulder, and looked through a pane above her head.
"To take Toot out."