Pine, the overcome silversmith, was now
soundly sleeping. In the front second-floor
room, lay Mr. and Mrs. Frampton. In the
larger of the back rooms, two of the young
ladies, and Master Frank in the smaller one.
The youngest daughter occupied the front
room above; the cook, another back room,
with the scullery-maid in a closet opening out
of it; Margy, and the other housemaid, the
third back room. And now it is twelve
o'clock, and all of them are fast asleep.

It is a dark night in the latter end of October.
The day has been very mild, but it has
rained hard since eleven o'clock. The rain
has now ceased, and the wind has risen. The
boughs of the trees round the house shake and
swing about; showers of leaves fall; dry bits
of stick are sometimes blown against the
windows; the doors and shutters, and window
frames, rattle; and other strange sounds are
made in the house, as well as outside, by the
weather.

But in the pauses of the wind, other noises,
of a different kind from all the rest, might
have been heard, had anybody on the ground-
floor been awake. The burglars had arrived,
and having selected their point to effect an
entrance, were now steadily at work.

It is an axiom in the science of fortification,
that a fortress is no stronger than its weakest
point. Lanky Go having been round to all
the lower windows, and found them properly
fastened, with bells affixed—so he said—as
well as the doors—which they had hardly
expected, after so convivial a party—they
then held consultation, and unanimously fixed
upon the pantry window as the most eligible
means of breaking into the house.

The pantry window looked out upon a side
lawn, where the clothes were hung out to dry.
It was six feet from the ground, but there was
no area between the wall and the lawn. The
window was without glass, and covered with
a frame-work of perforated zinc. It was
moreover protected by two iron bars, and as
the window itself was narrow, the body even
of a boy could not have squeezed through
between them.

Lanky Go, being much the tallest, accordingly
proceeded to effect his part of the task.
He placed himself close against the wall, and
with a keen file began to cut through one of
the iron bars. He worked quickly, and without
noise.

Humble and Crick, meantime, silently took
out their several implements, and arranged
them for use. They had with them a powerful
jemmy (a stout crow-bar), a centre-bit,
screw-driver, chisel, files, a pair of iron pincers
of a peculiar shape (made to pass through a
hole and turn a corner), and a large knife,
with several tools in it, such as a small saw,
two gimlets, a hook, a pick, and a cork-screw.
To this armoury was added a brace of pistols,
three bludgeons, a dark lanthorn, and three
masks,—a green one, made of an old veil, a
white one, made of cartridge-paper, and a
black one of the usual masquerade manufacture,
though much bent and maltreated.

One bar being announced, by a sign, as
cut through, Crick advanced, and, with the
jemmy, adroitly smashed and clawed out half
a brick from the wall, about thirteen inches
below the sill of the window. He then placed
himself close beside Lanky Go, each bending
his back, with his elbows placed flat against
the wall, and his head pressed upon his arms.
Upon their backs Humble now mounted.
He then seized the lower end of the iron bar,
just above the place where it had been cut
through, and planting his left toe in the niche
where the piece of brick had been torn out,
he thus obtained a good "purchase," and by
main strength bent the bar upwards and
aslant. He now leaped softly down, and
made a back for Crick, who went to work at
the sheet of perforated zinc, which, in a few
minutes, he opened all down one side, and
folded back. He then thrust his head and
shoulders in at the pantry window, and
listened.

"Go along," hoarsely whispered Humble.
Twisting his legs round at this exhortation,
Crick dangled them down into the pantry.
His crunched-up head and shoulders faced,
his friends below for a moment, and then
disappeared. But presently his hands reappeared,
and the fingers twisted impatiently in
the air.

Lanky Go instantly skipped up beneath
the window with the centre-bit and special
pincers, which he deposited in the hands, and
they immediately vanished in the darkness.

Humble and Lanky, after waiting a few
minutes, till certain sounds within indicated
that Crick had effected his entrance, moved
slowly round to the area at the back, facing
the garden. Lanky pointed to one of the
lower windows, interrogatively. Humble
shook his head. "Somebody asleep there,"
whispered he,—"gardener or boy;" and then
pointed to the back-door down in the area.
They descended the stone steps, and Humble
applied his ear to the key-hole, while Lanky
applied his to a crack in the top square of the
door-panel.

In the course of ten minutes' suspense,
they heard the gradual grating noise of the
slow withdrawal of rusty bolts,—the gliding
back of the tongue of the lock—and the lifting
up and laying aside of a chain. The door then
slowly opened—and the muzzle of a duck-
gun was protruded! It came out longer and
longer, with steady, hostile advance—and
behind it appeared, not the adroit colleague,
John Crick, but the hobbedehoy figure of
Master Frank, in his shirt.

"Rascals!" cried he, "take that!"—with
which words he fired manfully about three
yards over their heads, and struck the top of
an ornamental pigeon-house in the middle of
the lawn. Humble and Lanky were retiring
precipitately, when out darted Crick, and in
an instant pinioned the valiant young duck-