"Get up," said the man.
"It is you, Bill!" said the girl, with an expression of pleasure at his return.
"It is," was the reply. "Get up."
There was a candle burning, but the man hastily drew it from the candlestick and hurled it under the grate. Seeing the faint light of early day without, the girl rose to undraw the curtain.
"Let it be," said Sikes, thrusting his hand before her. "There's light enough for wot I've got to do."
"Bill," said the girl, in the low voice of alarm, "why do you look like that at me?"
The robber sat regarding her for a few seconds with dilated nostrils and heaving breast, and then grasping her by the head and throat dragged her into the middle of the room, and looking once towards the door, placed his heavy hand upon her mouth.
"Bill, Bill—" gasped the girl, wrestling with the strength of mortal fear,—"I—I won't scream or cry—not once—hear me—speak to me—tell me what I have done."
