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Dead Men Tell No Tales | E. W. Hornung | |
Chapter XV First Blood |
Page 3 of 5 |
"I was afraid of it!" cried Eva, with a sudden sob. "What is it?" "They've taken away the key!" Yes, the keen air came through an empty keyhole; and my lamp, held close, not only showed that the door was locked, but that the lock was one with which an unskilled hand might tamper for hours without result. I dealt it a hearty kick by way of a test. The heavy timber did not budge; there was no play at all at either lock or hinges; nor did I see how I could spend one of my four remaining bullets upon the former, with any chance of a return. "Is this the only other door?" "Then it must be a window." All the back ones are barred." "Securely?" "Yes." "Then we've no choice in the matter." And I led the way back to the hall, where the poor black devil lay blubbering in his blood. In the kitchen I found the bottle of wine (Rattray's best port, that they were trying to make her take for her health) with which Eva had bribed him, and I gave it to him before laying hands on a couple of chairs. "What are you going to do?"' "Go out the way we came." "But the wall?" "Pile up these chairs, and as many more as we may need, if we can't open the gate." |
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Dead Men Tell No Tales E. W. Hornung |
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