Outside the locked door the voices of the two men rose in fierce whispers. But Ford regarded them not at all. With the swiftness of a squirrel caught in a cage, he darted on tiptoe from side to side searching the confines of his prison. He halted close to Miss Dale and pointed at the windows.
"Have you ever tried to loosen those bars?" he whispered.
The girl nodded and, in pantomime that spoke of failure, shrugged her shoulders.
"What did you see?" demanded Ford hopefully.
The girl destroyed his hope with a shake of her head and a swift smile.
"Scissors," she said; "but they found them and took them away."Ford pointed at the open grate.
"Where's the poker?" he demanded.
"They took that, too. I bent it trying to pry the bars. So they knew."The man gave her a quick, pleased glance, then turned his eyes to the door that led into the room that looked upon the street.
"Is that door locked?"
"No," the girl told him. "But the door from it into the hall is fastened, like the other, with a spring lock and two bolts."Ford cautiously opened the door into the room adjoining, and, except for a bed and wash-stand, found it empty. On tiptoe he ran to the windows. Sowell Street was deserted. He returned to Miss Dale, again closing the door between the two rooms.
"The nurse," Miss Dale whispered, "when she is on duty, leaves that door open so that she can watch me; when she goes downstairs, she locks and bolts the door from that room to the hall. It's locked now.""What's the nurse like?"
The girl gave a shudder that seemed to Ford sufficiently descriptive. Her lips tightened in a hard, straight line.
"She's not human," she said. "I begged her to help me, appealed to her in every way; then I tried a dozen times to get past her to the stairs.""Well?"
The girl frowned, and with a gesture signified her surroundings.
"I'm still here," she said.
She bent suddenly forward and, with her hand on his shoulder, turned the man so that he faced the cot.
"The mattress on that bed," she whispered, rests on two iron rods.
They are loose and can be lifted. I planned to smash the lock, but the noise would have brought Prothero. But you could defend yourself with one of them."Ford had already run to the cot and dropped to his knees. He found the mattress supported on strips of iron resting loosely in sockets at the head and foot. He raised the one nearer him, and then, after a moment of hesitation, let it drop into place.
"That's fine!" he whispered. "Good as a crowbar.'" He shook his head in sudden indecision. "But I don't just know how to use it.
His automatic could shoot six times before I could swing that thing on him once. And if I have it in my hands when he opens the door, he'll shoot, and he may hit you. But if I leave it where it is, he won't know I know it's there, and it may come in very handy later."In complete disapproval the girl shook her head. Her eyes filled with concern. "You must not fight him," she ordered. I mean, not for me. You don't know the danger. The man's not sane. He won't give you a chance. He's mad. You have no right to risk your life for a stranger. I'll not permit it----"Ford held up his hand for silence. With a jerk of his head he signified the door. "They've stopped talking," he whispered.
Straining to hear, the two leaned forward, but from the hall there came no sound. The girl raised her eyebrows questioningly.
"Have they gone?" she breathed.
"If I knew that," protested Ford, "we wouldn't be here!"In answer to his doubt a smart rap, as though from the butt of a revolver, fell upon the door. The voice of Prothero spoke sharply:
"You, who call yourself Grant!" he shouted.
Before answering, Ford drew Miss Dale and himself away from the line of the door, and so placed the girl with her back to the wall that if the door opened she would be behind it. "Yes," he answered.
"Pearsall and I" called Prothero, "have decided how to dispose of you--of both of you. He has gone below to make preparations. I am on guard. If you try to break out or call for help, I'll shoot you as I warned you!""And I warn you," shouted Ford, "if this lady and I do not instantly leave this house, or if any harm comes to her, you will hang for it!" Prothero laughed jeeringly.
"Who will hang me?" he mocked.
"My friends," retorted Ford. "They know I am in this house. They know WHY I am here. Unless they see Miss Dale and myself walk out of it in safety, they will never let you leave it. Don't be a fool, Prothero!" he shouted. "You know I am telling the truth. You know your only chance for mercy is to open that door and let us go free."For over a minute Ford waited, but from the hall there was no answer.
After another minute of silence, Ford turned and gazed inquiringly at Miss Dale.
"Prothero!" he called.
Again for a full minute he waited and again called, and then, as there still was no reply, he struck the door sharply with his knuckles. On the instant the voice of the Jew rang forth in an angry bellow.
"Keep away from that door!" he commanded.
Ford turned to Miss Dale and bent his head close to hers.
"Now, why the devil didn't he answer?" he whispered. "Was it because he wasn't there; or is he planning to steal away and wants us to think that even if he does not answer, he's still outside?"The girl nodded eagerly.
"This is it," she whispered. "My uncle is a coward or rather he is very wise, and has left the house. And Prothero means to follow, but he wants us to think he's still on guard. If we only KNEW!" she exclaimed.
As though in answer to her thought, the voice of Prothero called to them.
"Don't speak to me again," he warned. "If you do, I'll not answer, or I'll shoot!"Flattened against the wall, close to the hinges of the door, Ford replied flippantly and defiantly:
"That makes conversation difficult, doesn't it?" he called.
There was a bursting report, and a bullet splintered the panel of the door, flattened itself against the fireplace, and fell tinkling into the grate.
"I hope I hit you!" roared the Jew.
