in the room below, just congratulating himself on his cunning move,
grew pale as he listened. He supposed his nephew to be in a furious
passion, and apprehensions of personal violence disturbed him. Still he
reflected that he would be unable to get out, and in the morning he
could go for the constable. But he was interrupted by a different noise.
Ben had drawn off his boots, and was firing them one after the other at
the door.

The noise became so intorable, that Paul was compelled to ascend the
stairs, trembling with fear.

"What's the matter?" he inquired at the door, in a quavering voice.

"Open the door," returned Ben.

His uncle reluctantly inserted the key in the lock and opening it
presented a pale, scared face in the doorway. His nephew, with his coat
stripped off, was sitting on the side of the bed.

"What's the matter?" asked Paul.

"Nothing, only you locked the door by mistake," said Ben, coolly.

"What made you make such a noise?" demanded Paul.

"To call you up. There was no bell in the room, so that was the only way
I had of doing it. What made you lock me in?"

"I didn't think," stammered the old man.