So saying, he huddled the mantle over Wood's shoulders, dashed the lantern to the ground, and extinguished the light. A moment afterwards, the door was closed and bolted, and the carpenter found himself alone. “Mercy on us!” cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. “The Dutchman was right, after all.” This exclamation had scarcely escaped him, when the discharge of a pistol was heard, and a bullet whizzed past his ears. “I have him!” cried a voice in triumph. A man, then, rushed up the entry, and, seizing the unlucky carpenter by the collar, presented a drawn sword to his throat. This person was speedily followed by half a dozen others, some of whom carried flambeaux. “Mur--der!” roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. “Damnation!” exclaimed one of the leaders of the party in a furious tone, snatching a torch from an attendant, and throwing its light full upon the face of the carpenter; “this is not the villain, Sir Cecil.” “So I find, Rowland,” replied the other, in accents of deep disappointment, and at the same time relinquishing his grasp. “I could have sworn I saw him enter this passage. And how comes his cloak on this knave's shoulders?” “It is his cloak, of a surety,” returned Rowland “Harkye, sirrah,” continued he, haughtily interrogating Wood; “where is the person from whom you received this mantle?” “Throttling a man isn't the way to make him answer questions,” replied the carpenter, doggedly. “You'll get nothing out of me, I can promise you, unless you show a little more civility.” “We waste time with this fellow,” interposed Sir Cecil, “and may lose the object of our quest, who, beyond doubt, has taken refuge in this building. Let us search it.” Just then, the infant began to sob piteously. “Hist!” cried Rowland, arresting his comrade. “Do you hear that! We are not wholly at fault. The dog-fox cannot be far off, since the cub is found.” With these words, he tore the mantle from Wood's back, and, perceiving the child, endeavoured to seize it. In this attempt he was, however, foiled by the agility of the carpenter, who managed to retreat to the door, against which he placed his back, kicking the boards vigorously with his heel. “Joan! Joan!” vociferated he, “open the door, for God's sake, or I shall be murdered, and so will your babby! Open the door quickly, I say.” “Knock him on the head,” thundered Sir Cecil, “or we shall have the watch upon us.” “No fear of that,” rejoined Rowland: “such vermin never dare to show themselves in this privileged district. All we have to apprehend is a rescue.” The hint was not lost upon Wood. He tried to raise an outcry, but his throat was again forcibly griped by Rowland. “Another such attempt,” said the latter, “and you are a dead man. Yield up the babe, and I pledge my word you shall remain unmolested.” “I will yield it to no one but its mother,” answered Wood.