Jim wasn't quite the equals of
the dirt beneath her feet. Steady! Here he comes."

And looming through the fog, Mr. Ryfe approached with cautious,
resolute step; carrying a revolver in his pocket, prepared to use it,
too, on occasion, with the fearless energy of a desperate man.

"Is it all ready, Jim?" said he in a whisper. "You haven't forgot the
gag? Nor the shawl to throw round her head? The least mistake upsets a
job like this."

For answer, Jim descended heavily from his seat, and holding the
cab-door open, pointed to the above-named articles lying folded on the
front seat.

"You'll drive, master," said he, with a hoarse chuckle. "You knows
the way. First turn to the left. I'll ride inside, like a lord, or a
fashionable doctor, and keep my eye on the tackle."

"It's very dark," continued Tom uneasily. "But that's all in our
favour, of course. You know her figure as well as I do. Don't forget,
now. I'll drive close to the pavement, and the instant we stop, you
must throw the shawl over her head, muffle her up, and whip her in.
This beggar can gallop, I suppose."

"He's a thoroughbred 'un," answered Jim, with a sounding pat on the
horse's bony ribs. "Leastways, so the chap as I borrowed him off swore
solemn. He was so precious drunk, I'm blessed if I think he knowed
what he meant. But howsoever, I make no doubt the critter can go when
it's pushed."

Thus speaking, Jim helped the other to mount the box, and placed
himself inside with the door open, ready to spring like a tiger when
he should catch sight of his prey.

The streets of the great city are never so deserted as an hour or
two after nightfall, and an hour or two before dawn. Not a single
passenger did they meet, and only one policeman; while the cab with
its desperate inmates rattled and jolted along on this nefarious
enterprise.

It was stopped at last, close to the footway in a dimly-lighted
street, within a hundred yards of Lord Bearwarden's house, which stood
a few doors off round the corner.

A distant clock struck the hour. That heavy clang seemed to dwell on
the gloomy stillness of the atmosphere, and both men felt their nerves
strangely jarred by the dull, familiar sound.

Their hearts beat fast. Tom began to wish he had adopted some less
unconventional means of attaining his object, and tried in vain to
drive from his mind the punishments awarded to such offences as he
meditated, by the severity of our criminal code.

Jim had but on