The fellow did not finish his speech verbally, but again illustrated his meaning with a tap of the life-preserver. "We ain't a-goin' yet," growled Number 8; "so don't you think it. I _have_ used this 'ere, and I ain't used it," he said, showing his clasp-knife; "but it's a sharp un--so I tell you; and where it does go, it goes--so look out." "This one's been a-drinkin'; smell his breath," said Number 2, nodding at old Octavius, as he cast the light from the lantern upon his wild face. Just then the doctor gave a loud groan, for his cords hurt him. "Shove a bit in his mouth, Bill, or he'll begin to pipe, p'r'aps," growled Number 8. "He'd best not," said Bill savagely; "but how-so-be he shall have it; there's some knives in that there drawer." Doctor Hardon's eyes rolled in their sockets as he saw one of the men go to the sideboard drawer and bring out a large table-knife. Then the head of the party took it from his companion's hand and held the blade between the bars, where the fire yet glowed, when the effect in a few minutes was to loosen the handle, for the resin melted, and the blade slipped out. The man then took the handle, untied and slipped off the doctor's white cravat, and then turning his back, rolled the knife-haft tightly in its folds; while, wondering what was to follow, the horror-stricken captive began to groan dismally. "Now for it," cried Bill sharply, seizing the bound and helpless man by the throat, when, fancying that his last hour had come, the doctor opened his mouth to cry out, when the knife-handle was thrust between his teeth, and the cravat tightly tied behind his head, keeping the gag securely in its place, and thoroughly robbing him of the power of even crying out. "Now t'other," said Bill. "Get another knife out." "Ah! he's all right," said Number 2. "I'd leave him." "P'r'aps you would," said Bill; "but we two don't want to be blowed on, if you do." "But he's a-most dead now," said Number 2; "and if you stop his mouth that way, I'm blessed if I don't think he will be quite afore morning." "And what then?" said Bill contemptuously; "what if he is? What's the good of an old cove like him? Yah!" However, that part of the ceremony was left undone. The doctor heard the door close, open again, for the key to be dragged out of the lock and replaced in the other side; when once more the door was closed and double-locked. Then followed the sound as of a whispered dispute, and again silence, till it was broken by a faint scream from upstairs; while, with every nerve on the stretch, the doctor listened for the next movement, as, still somewhat confused in mind, he kept fancying that the stertorous breathing of his brother was that of one of the ruffians on guard at the door.