"Open--in the King's name!" came from the outer room; and then, just as Abel had seized an old sea-chest and was about to drag it before the door, there was a tremendous kick, the bolt was driven off, the door swung open, and the Dartmouth constable and a couple of men rushed forwards, and, in spite of Abel's resistance, dragged him into the other room. "Now, Dell, my lad," said the head man, "I've got you at last." "So it seems," said Abel, who stared hard at his sister as he spoke; while she stood with her hands clasped before her and a peculiarly rigid look on her face, staring wildly back. "Smuggling and wrecking weren't enough for you, eh?" "What do you want here?" said Abel, giving his sister a final scowl and then facing the head constable. "You, my lad--you," said that individual, with a grin. "What for?" "Attempted murder and robbery on the king's highway, my lad." "It's a lie! Who says so?" cried Abel, setting his teeth and fixing his sister again with his dark eyes as she gave him an imploring look. "Never mind who says so, my lad. Information's laid all regular against you and Master Bart Wrigley. You're both captured neatly. Here, how long are you going to be bringing forward the other?" cried the constable. "We can't get him out," shouted a voice. "He's stuck in the little window." "Pull him back, then, by his legs." "Been trying ever so long," said another voice, "but he won't come." "I'll soon see to that," said the constable, backing Abel into the little bed-room which was darkened by Bart's body filling up the window. "Here, lay hold of his legs, two of you, and give a good jerk." Two men obeyed, but they did not give the jerk--Bart did that. Drawing in his legs like a grasshopper about to leap, he suddenly shot them out straight, when, though they did not alter his position where he was nipped in across the hips by the window-frame, they acted like catapults upon the two constables, who were driven backwards, the one into a chair, the other into a sitting position on the floor, to the great delight of those who looked on. "Four of you," said the head constable stolidly; "and hold on this time." The men obeyed, two going to each leg; and though Bart gave three or four vigorous kicks, his captors were not dislodged. "Now," said the head constable, as the kicking legs became quiescent, "all together!" There was a sharp jerk, and Bart's body was snatched out of the imprisoning frame so suddenly that five men went down on the floor together; while the first to rise was Bart, who kicked himself free, made for the door in spite of a pistol levelled by the head constable, and passed through. "Come on, Abel!" he shouted as he went. Abel made a dash to follow, but he only struck his face against the muzzle of a pistol, and the head constable held on. There was a rush after Bart, but it was needless, for the great stolid fellow had seen the state of affairs, and come back.