The Argosy — page 246: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Faithful unto Death. 2.29 “Come, lads! ’tis fooling we are ; we must get her out anny way ; so break in the door. With a will, now!” ‘Stop, boys, stop !” called out another voice; “‘ ye must remember Nelly is in there, and she is not to be hurt; mind that now. Begorra! I'll be the death of the first man that lays a finger on her.” I could hear no more distinctly, but amongst the confused noise the voice of the man who had spoken of Nelly sounded hard and threatening. I concluded that this must be Nelly’s lover, Tim Doolan, and it comforted me a little to think there might be some assistance to be hoped for from him. Every now and then the night air would resound with a wild yell, and deep curses were called down upon the head of my absent husband. The minutes passed on slowly, but I tried to comfort myself with the thought that rescue might yet come in time. I then bethought me of Mrs. O’Shea. She would probably be in the kitchen. I went in to look. She must have gone upstairs. I went up noiselessly, and looked into the servants’ room; she was not there. I went on quickly to my bedroom, and stood at the door peering into the darkness. I heard someone moving, and knew it must be the cook. She passed round the bed to the other side, where stood always a little table on which I had placed all my keys when I went to bed, amongst them the key of the front door, which I had taken upstairs for greater security. I saw the woman strike a match. She only allowed it to burn for five or six seconds, but in that time I saw her put out her hand and take up the big front-door key. What could she want with it? I held my breath, and kept every faculty at its highest tension. She moved quietly and quickly to the window, against the pane of which the key in her hand rattled as she threw up the sash. All of a sudden I understood her motive. She meant to throw out the key of the front door, and so let the men in. My mind was made up on the instant. I watched her narrowly until I saw that my opportunity had come. As soon as she had opened the window, she leant out over the sill and called in a low tone: ‘Larry, the kay; the kay of the door: open it ye’rself but never Say it was me.” As she swung her hand back, before throwing out the key, I sprang forward, snatched it away, and lifting her up sharply by the feet, sent her by a great effort of strength out of the window. It seemed a terrible act, but what was Ito do? In the hands of this strong and determined woman I should have been powerless. Once she found herself discovered it would have been her life against mine. The act, terrible as it seemed, I have always looked upon as a sort of inspiration. She fell on the soft turf beneath, and perhaps was almost as much frightened as hurt. I may mention here that I CoOnmicoooks (CO)