Her eyes threw back the rays of the lantern, shining like a cat's at midnight.

Then, as the men went nearer, they saw that it was Miss Spencer who barred their way.

She seemed half to kneel on the stone floor, and in one hand she held what at first appeared to be a dagger, but which proved to be nothing more romantic than a rather long bread-knife.
'I heard you, I heard you,' she exclaimed.

'Get back; you mustn't come here.' There was a desperate and dangerous look on her face, and her form shook with scarcely controlled passionate energy.
'Now see here, Miss Spencer,' Racksole said calmly, 'I guess we've had enough of this fandango.

You'd better get up and clear out, or we'll just have to drag you off.' He went calmly up to her, the lantern in his hand.