“The man’s innocent, you hound! ’Twas that ruffian’s knife severed the strands when he slashed at me!” Brander hesitated; but Joe’s profound amazement was convincing. “Providence works for us in spite of fools--eh, Jack Fern?” said the former. He called in two of the men. “Splice him up again,” he said, “and firmly.” It was useless to resist. They tied the wretched gentleman’s hands behind him once more, cruelly enough, with a long cord, and the slack of this they fastened to the fire-grate. “Now,” said Brander--(he seemed virtually the leader; through all this scene the nominal one stood blazing sullenness)--“we’ve a little surprise for you, my buck, and have effected more, perhaps, than you think. Bring in the girl there!” Lost, broken, and dumfounded, the captive raised his miserable head at the words. What new triumph of devilry did they betoken? Darda, before God! His swimming heart was conscious of a shock, and following it a little burst of shameful thankfulness. Bad was it, in all conscience, but---- He knew his cracked lips trying to mutter, “What has happened? How did she fall into your hands?”--but only inarticulate sounds came from them. The girl stood there on the threshold, fierce, defiant, held by two men. The next moment, at a gesture from Brander, she was gone. “Now, sir,” said the schoolmaster, beckoning his coconspirator, and coming close up to his victim--“we deal, as you see, in very severe realities. We have two in our power at this outset of our little campaign. A capture a day would serve, but we are impatient for a quicker settlement. To-night again for reflection. ’Tis a concession, but we grant it you. With dawn to-morrow it is for you to decide the fate of this maid and of your own very ornamental members.” Tuke, like a dying man, saw him nod to him darkly--a grotesque phantasm as of a last delirium; saw him turn and, in company with his chief, stalk from the room; knew himself committed to such a further ordeal of torture as he feared his weakened body would be powerless to sustain; and, as the last echo of retreating footsteps came to his ears, his head dropped upon his breast and he despaired. CHAPTER XLVI. An apology is submitted for here retailing some commonplaces of a very evil duet of rascals. That began with certain dropping shots of irony, and it ended at pretty close range. The kitchen of the tumbled lodge served for guardhouse; and the two officers were quartered in the little parlour opposite Mr. Tuke’s room of bondage. Between walked a sentry, and another (on this occasion Mr. Joseph Corby) was stationed to the front of the house in the freezing moonlight. Burnt fallow-deer meat had been plentifully bolted after the exertions of the day, and kegs of rum--supplied, it must be confessed, by Mr. Breeds, who was not otherwise represented in this climax of affairs--topped very agreeably the simplicity of the repast.