the whole of the nicknacks from the drawing-
room chimneypieces, and threw them into the
sack with the spoons and teapots.

It will be recollected that young Frank
Frampton had been laid senseless by a half-
throttling process, on the first entrance of the
burglars, and that the old gardener had also
been knocked down. The old man, however,
after a time, recovered himself sufficiently to
rise, and availing himself of the absence of
the watchful guard, Lanky, when he was up
stairs, threatening the screaming women, he
opened his window (his door having been
locked from the outside) and let himself down
into the area, which was only four feet below.
He then cautiously entered the house, and
went straight to the little room where the
boy slept. The boy was gone. A thought
struck the gardener, and he hurried to the
coal-cellar, and there he found him hidden.
The boy knew his voice, and crawled out, and
they ran from the house across the lawn, and
into one of the shrubberies, and so along the
dark filbert walk, till they reached the arbour,
and here they stopped to take breath.

The gardener then told the boy to make the
best of his way into the highroad, and find
the patrol, and tell him what was going on,
while he would hasten by another way up
into the village, by a lane that would bring
him out just opposite to the house of Matthew
Pringle, the constable, whom he would knock
up.

It will now be requisite to revert to the
departure of young Squire Tatman from the
convivial board of this unfortunate country
family, and to bear in mind the peculiar
condition in which he sallied forth into the
dark night, refusing, with a flourish, all
companionship of boy or lanthorn to guide his
unsteady steps.

He had not gone far along the gravel walk
before a heavy shower of rain came on, and
to obtain some shelter, he stepped aside among
the trees of a plantation, through which he
made his way onwards towards the high road.
It so happened, however, that he emerged
very much further off than he had intended,
and being near to a little road-side inn, he
commenced a battery against the shutters,
which compelled the landlady to appear at the
window, and then, having ascertained his
"quality," to come down, and let him in. He
remained for an hour or more drinking brandy-
and-water,—on account, as he pretended, of
being wet through and through. At last she
got rid of him.

The young squire again sallied forth into
the night in a yet more "unaccountable"
state than before, and after a time arrived in
the main street of the village. Here he
recollected the house of two old maiden ladies,
who kept five cats, through whom he had
got a whipping when a school-boy, for fastening
a cracker to one of their tails on the fifth
of November. He stopped—looked up at the
bed-room windows—then down at the dining-
room shutters, and finished his vague
contemplation by picking up a large stone, and
commencing a loud hammering against the
shutters,—and wound up by discharging the
stone through one of the bed-room windows,
while he set up a strange howl. He had the
greater pleasure in doing this, because the
house was within two doors of the little shop
of Matthew Pringle, the constable.

This nocturnal outrage quickly brought
forth the poor maiden ladies to the windows
of their several rooms, which they threw up,
and began to scream, "Constable! Constable!
Thieves! Thieves! Mr. Pringle! Mr. Pr—
ing—ingle!"

Another stone through the bed-room window
of the personage thus summoned, instantly
brought that invaluable functionary to his
window,—opening which he heard a similar
salute paid to another window further on; it
therefore became a clear case that he must
hurry off to capture the offender before all
the glass in the village was demolished. He
commenced putting on some clothes with the
utmost haste.

Meantime the merry young gentleman had
moved on till he found himself abreast of the
principal inn of the village, viz., the "Royal
George." The one faint lamp of the main
street was just over the way, and shed a
dim light on the benign aspect of the gentlemanly
monarch above, which young Tatman
found quite irresistible. So, he swarmed up
the sign-post, and first lifted one hook out of
its eye, and then the other, and down fell the
great sign-board edgeways in the road.

Down slid the pleasant young gentleman,
and taking up his Majesty on his back, with
the face turned outwards, and looking benignly
on all behind,—moved onwards with his
burthen, staggering, yet secure on his legs,
and at a good pace.

It was a cold wet night, and Matthew
Pringle had thought it advisable to put on
most of his clothes before he issued forth on
duty. He was out soon enough to observe a
figure going up the main street at no great
distance. He hailed him, and then quickened
his pace. As he got nearer, he saw it was a
man walking off with some booty—a great
square box, as it seemed! He summoned
him to stop in the Queen's name!—but the
midnight robber only quickened his pace.
Pringle quickened his. The figure began to
run. Pringle gave chase; and away went
the figure along the high-road, beyond the
village, and presently turned down a deep
lane, and ran scrambling through the darkness
with a slushy sound;—Matthew Pringle
after him.

But the house of the poor Framptons,
which is being plundered all this time, with
poor Mr. Frampton lying on his back, bound
hand and foot!—as any country gentleman
may be, at any time, by burglars—and his
wife, and family, and servants all in momentary
terror of their lives! What is to become