Let me see if I cannot make you hear those words, too." And with a daring smile at his discomforted adversary, Alonzo Moffat launched forth into the following sarcasm: "Arthur Cumberland, coming up the kitchen stairs, hears voices where he had expected total silence--sees light where he had left total darkness.
He has two bottles in his hands, or in his large coat-pockets.

If they are in his hands, he sets them down and steals forward to listen.

He has recognised the voices.

They are those of his two sisters, one of whom had ordered him to hitch up the cutter for her to escape, as he had every reason to believe, the other.

Curiosity--or is it some nobler feeling--causes him to draw nearer and nearer to the room in which they have taken up their stand.