rnestine leaped up, left the fire, advanced to the far end of the
cellar, and imitated the cry of a screech owl to perfection. There was a
similar cry in response.

"It's all right. They're here!" she said. She returned to the fire and
sat down. But Nibet seized the girl and forced her to get up again.

"Go along with you! Quick march!" he said roughly.

She protested. Nibet stopped her.

"Oh, we can't stand listening to you!... Ho there, Sailor!... Come
here!... Sit down on this plank! You, the Beadle, and me--we're to be
the judges.... Beard makes the accusation: and, if her heart tells her
to, Ernestine will defend him."

"I'd rather spit at the tell-tale!... You can tear him to bits as far as
I'm concerned!" cried the girl. "There's nothing disgusts me so much as
a tell-tale!"

The hooligans crowded round big Ernestine. They applauded her
ironically; for they all knew that, once upon a time, she had been
strongly suspected of having dealings with, what they called, "The dirty
lot at the Bobby's Nest."

* * * * *

Silence fell once more. They could hear the rasp of the rope unrolling
from a hand windlass attached to an enormous bucket. This was the
primitive lift.

Moments passed. The hooligans had formed a circle beneath the black hole
where the bucket moved up and down.

"It goes, old Beard?" questioned Nibet, gazing upwards.

"It goes, old bloke!"

"Brought the game?"

"That's what we're sending down now!..."

"That's a bit of all right!"

Sailor now seized the trussed Jules from the bucket and flung him on the
ground.

"Damaged goods, that--eh?" he laughed evilly.

The Beadle, Beard, and Emilet were coming down in turn. The group below
bent curiously over the prisoner.

"He's soft--that sort is!" cried Ernestine. And tapping him on the face
with her foot, big Ernestine tried to make Jules show signs of life.
Beard dropped out of the bucket and stopped the game.

"Let's see, Ernestine?... Stop it now!"

After gripping the hand of each comrade in turn, after hugging a bottle
and draining it in a long draught, emptying it to the dregs, Beard flung
it aside.

"Let's get to work--no time to waste!... If we finish him off, we'll
have to get rid of him before morning!"

Sailor lifted Jules with the aid of two comrades. They propped him
against a massive pillar of wood which supported the cellar roof. They
bound their wretched victim to it with strong cords.