“Well, then, mark me, I'm not afeard of you—but I have the box.”
“An' how did you come by it?” he asked.
“Sarah was lookin' for a cobweb to stop the blood where she cut me in our fight the other day, an' it came tumblin' out of a cranny in the wall.”
“An' where is it now?”
“I'll get it for you,” she replied; “but you must let me out first.”
“Why so?”
“Because it's not in the house.”
“An' where is it? Don't think you'll escape me.”
“It's in the thatch o' the roof.”
The Prophet deliberately opened the door, and catching her by the shoulder, held her prisoner, as it were, until she should make her words good. The roof was but low, and she knew the spot too well to make any mistake about it.