"Mind your business," said the voice, sharply. "Now, if I let you out,
will you promise to do exactly as I tell you?"

"Honour bright," said Mr. Travers, fervently.

"I'm going to give Mr. Benn a lesson he won't forget," proceeded the
other, grimly. "I'm going to fire off this gun, and then run down and
tell him I've killed you."

"Eh?" said the amazed Mr. Travers. "Oh, Lord!"

"H'sh! Stop that laughing," commanded the voice. "He'll hear you. Be
quiet!"

The key turned in the lock, and Mr. Travers, stepping forth, clapped his
hand over his mouth and endeavoured to obey. Mrs. Waters, stepping back
with the gun ready, scrutinized him closely.

"Come on to the landing," said Mr. Travers, eagerly. "We don't want
anybody else to hear. Fire into this."

He snatched a patchwork rug from the floor and stuck it up against the
balusters. "You stay here," said Mrs. Waters. He nodded.

She pointed the gun at the hearth-rug, the walls shook with the
explosion, and, with a shriek that set Mr. Travers's teeth on edge, she
rushed downstairs and, drawing back the bolts of the back door, tottered
outside and into the arms of the agitated boatswain.

"Oh! oh! oh!" she cried.