"Do you think I'm daft to be sitting my lone in your kitchen and them flogging a clever young man in the next street?"
Then the hall-door slammed. Finlay turned to Hope. He was whiter than ever, and his whole body shook as if with an ague.
"Kelso will tell," he said. "Kelso knows, and they'll flog the secret out of him. He'll tell, I know he will. He must tell; no man could help it."
If Finlay was pretending to be terrified he acted marvellously well. It seemed to Neal that he really was afraid of something, perhaps of some sudden betrayal of his treachery, of vengeance taken speedily by Hope.
"What ails you?" said Hope. "You needn't be frightened."
"The cartridges, the cartridges," wailed Finlay. "Kelso knows they are here."
"If that's all," said Hope, "Neal Ward and I will ease you of them. We came here to take them away."
"You can't, you can't, you mustn't. They'd hang you on the nearest lamp iron if they saw you with the cartridges."
There was a bang on the door and a moment later a knocking on the window of the room, and then a woman's fate was pressed against the glass. Hope sprang across the room and flung open the window. The servant woman who had gone to see the flogging pushed her head into the room and said--
"They're taking down Kelso, and he's telling all he knows. Major Barber and the soldiers are getting ready to march. It's down here they'll be coming."
"It's time for us to be off, then," said Hope.
"Come along, Neal, down to the cellar, and let us get the cartridges."
James Finlay followed them downstairs, begging them not to attempt to carry off the cartridges. He held Hope by the arm as he spoke.
"Don't do it," he said, "for God's sake don't do it. The soldiers are coming. They will be here in a minute. They will meet you. They will hang you. I know they will hang you. Oh! for God's sake go away at once while you have time. Leave the cartridges."
Hope shook off the grip on his arm with a gesture of impatience. He pushed open the cellar door.
"Now, Neal," he said, "pick up as many of the cases as you think you can carry."
James Finlay turned from Hope and seized Neal by the hands. The man was trembling from head to foot; his face was deadly white; the sweat was trickling down his cheeks in little streams.