A very
little more, a few minutes longer of work, and the beam would have been
slid back, the door would have been quietly opened, and the throats of
all the occupants of the house might have been cut. Whispering to his
daughter to stand behind the door, and softly to push back the bolt each
time the attempt was made to prise it open, Frank snatched down, and
loaded with slugs, his old musket. Then very quietly he let himself down
through the trap-door into the cow-house, which in all, or nearly all,
old peel towers formed the lower story of the building. Cautiously
unclosing the door of the cow-house, which opened on the outer air close
to the flight of stone steps leading up to the main door of the tower,
he stepped out. There, plainly to be seen at top of the stair, were
several men, busily employed in trying to gain an entrance.
"Ye bluidy scoundrels," roared Stokoe, "I'll knock a hole in some o' ye
that the stars will shine through."
And with that he let drive at the nearest, the charge, at so close a
range, literally "knocking a hole" in him. Like a startled covey of
partridges the remaining robbers fled, not only without attempting
reprisals, but without even waiting to use the steps as an aid to
escape; they simply flew through the air to mother earth and made tracks
towards safety, anywhere, out of the reach of Frank Stokoe's vengeance;
which perhaps was the wisest thing they could have done, for Stokoe was
the kind of man who in a case such as this would willingly have knocked
a hole in each one of them.
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