"Be quiet!" and raised aloft a knife.
Both had dark cloths over their faces, with two holes for the eyes.
For a moment nothing was audible but the gasping breath of all four, the
patter of the rain; the old woman emitted frequent rattles from her
throat, and her eyes were starting from her head.
The man who held the boy said in his ear, "Where does your father keep
his money?"
The lad replied in a thread of a voice, with chattering teeth,
"Yonder--in the cupboard."
"Come with me," said the man.
And he dragged him into the closet room, holding him securely by the
throat. There was a dark lantern standing on the floor.
"Where is the cupboard?" he demanded.
The suffocating boy pointed to the cupboard.
Then, in order to make sure of the boy, the man flung him on his knees
in front of the cupboard, and, pressing his neck closely between his own
legs, in such a way that he could throttle him if he shouted, and
holding his knife in his teeth and his lantern in one hand, with the
other he pulled from his pocket a pointed iron, drove it into the lock,
fumbled about, broke it, threw the doors wide open, tumbled everything
over in a perfect fury of haste, filled his pockets, shut the cupboard
again, opened it again, made another search; then he seized the boy by
the windpipe again, and pushed him to where the other man was still
grasping the old woman, who was convulsed, with her head thrown back and
her mouth open.