On a footstool a yard off sat the spider glaring at him.
Clubhead had mounted guard over the butler, where he lay tied hand and foot under the third cask.

From that cask he had seen the wine run into a great bath, and therein he expected to be drowned.

The doctor, with his crushed leg, needed no one to guard him.
And now Curdie proceeded to the expulsion of the rest.

Great men or underlings, he treated them all alike.

From room to room over the house he went, and sleeping or waking took the man by the hand.