“Mind what you’re up to,” he was heard to shout good-humouredly as ever.  “If you trip me we shall both break our blessed necks.”

“How dare you!” shrieked the voice of the captive, now growing hoarse.  “I’ll give you in charge the minute I get downstairs!  Ugly beast, I’ll give you all in charge!”

The descent began.  But that Polly was slightly made, a man of Gammon’s physique would have found it impossible to carry her down the stairs; as it was he soon began puffing and groaning.  In spite of the risk Polly still struggled—­two stair-railings were wrenched away on the first flight.  Then appeared Mr. and Mrs. Cheeseman, red and perspiring with muffled laughter.

“You may laugh, you wretches!” Polly shrieked.  “I’ll give you all in charge, see if I don’t.  You’ve all took part in an assault—­see what you’ll get for it!”

After that she no longer resisted, except for an occasional kick on her bearer’s shins.  They reached the ground floor; they tottered into the parlour; close upon them followed Mrs. Bubb and Mrs. Clover.  Set upon her feet, Polly seemed for a moment about to rush to the window; a second thought led her to the mirror over the mantelpiece, where, fiercely eyeing the reflected group behind her, she made shift to smooth her hair and arrange her dress.  Gammon had sunk upon a chair and was mopping his forehead.  He had suffered far more than Polly in the encounter, and looked indeed, with wild hair, scratched face, burst collar, loose necktie, a startling object.

“Now, then!” the girl moved towards him, fists clenched, as if to renew hostilities.  “What d’you mean by this?  Just you tell me what you mean by it.”

“As soon as I can get breath, my dear.  I meant to bring you down to speak to your aunt, and I’ve done it—­see?”

" I’m ashamed of you, Mr. Gammon,” exclaimed Mrs. Clover severely.  “I never thought you would go so far as this.”

“Ashamed of him, are you?” shrieked the girl, turning furiously upon her relative.  “Be ashamed of yourself!  What do you call yourself, eh?  A respectable woman?  And you look on while your own niece is treated in this way.  Why, a costermonger’s wife wouldn’t disgrace herself so.  No wonder your ’usband run away from you!”

“Oh, this low, vulgar, horrid girl!” cried her aunt in a revulsion of feeling.  “How she can be any relative of mine I’m sure I don’t know.”

“Ugh! you nasty, ungrateful young woman, you!” chimed in Mrs. Bubb.  “To speak to your kind awnt like that, as has been taking your part when I’m sure I wouldn’t ’a done!  I’d like to see you put on bread and water. till you owned up whether you’ve told lies or not.”

Mrs. Clover was moved to the point of shedding tears, though her handkerchief soon stopped the flow.

“Polly,” she said, raising her voice above the hubbub, “you’ve treated me that bad there’s no words for it.  But I can’t believe you’ll let me go away like this, without knowing whether you’ve really seen Mr. Clover or not.  Just tell me, do.”