He hauled it up.
"Now, open the window--dash the panes through--it matters not.

On to the window, I tell thee." "But if I do, the bag will fall into the river.

You cannot--oh, no!--you cannot mean that!" "Haul it up to the window, John Halifax." But John remained immovable.
"I must do it myself, then;" and, in the desperate effort he made, somehow the bag of grain fell, and fell on his lame foot.

Tortured into frenzy with the pain--or else, I will still believe, my old father would not have done such a deed--his failing strength seemed doubled and trebled.

In an instant more he had got the bag half through the window, and the next sound we heard was its heavy splash in the river below.
Flung into the river, the precious wheat, and in the very sight of the famished rioters! A howl of fury and despair arose.