I say that if Pritchard refuses this trifling request of ours, let us see that he leaves this house in such a state that he will not be able to do us any harm for some time at least." "But he will give his word!" the professor cried excitedly.

"I am quite sure that if you allow me to talk to him reasonably, he will pledge his word to go back to the States and interfere no longer with your affairs." Pritchard turned his head slightly.

He was a little pale, and the blood was dropping slowly on to the floor from a wound in his temple, but his tone was contemptuous.
"I will give you my word, Professor, and you, Elizabeth Gardner, and you, Jim Post, and you, Walter Crease, that crippled, or straight, in evil or good health, from the very jaws of death I will hang on to life until you have paid your just debts.

You understand that, all of you?
I don't know what sort of a show this is.

You may be in earnest, or you may be trying a rag.