etter not," said the voice. "Mind, I've got a gun pointing straight at
you."

"Point it downwards, there's a good girl," said Mr. Travers, earnestly;
"and take your finger off the trigger. If anything happened to me you'd
never forgive yourself."

"It's all right so long as you don't move," said the voice; "and I'm not
a girl," it added, sternly.

"Yes, you are," said the prisoner. "I saw you. I thought it was an
angel at first. I saw your little bare feet and--"

A faint scream interrupted him.

"You'll catch cold," urged Mr. Travers.

"Don't you trouble about me," said the voice, tartly.

"I won't give any trouble," said Mr. Travers, who began to think it was
time for the boatswain to appear on the scene. "Why don't you call for
help? I'll go like a lamb."

"I don't want your advice," was the reply. "I know what to do. Now,
don't you try and break out. I'm going to fire one barrel out of the
window, but I've got the other one for you if you move."

"My dear girl," protested the horrified Mr. Travers, "you'll alarm the
neighbourhood."

"Just what I want to do," said the voice. "Keep still, mind."

Mr. Travers hesitated. The game was up, and it was clear that in any
case the stratagem of the ingenious Mr. Benn would have to be disclosed.

"Stop!" he said, earnestly. "Don't do anything rash. I'm not a burglar;
I'm doing this for a friend of yours--Mr. Benn."

"What?" said an amazed voice.

"True as I stand here," asseverated Mr. Travers. "Here, here's my
instructions. I'll put 'em under the door, and if you go to the back
window you'll see him in the garden waiting."

He rustled the paper under the door, and it was at once snatched from his
fingers. He regained an upright position and stood listening to the
startled and indignant exclamations of his gaoler as she read the
boatswain's permit:

"_This is to give notice that I, George Benn, being of sound mind
and body, have told Ned Travers to pretend to be a burglar at Mrs.
Waters's. He ain't a burglar, and I shall be outside all the time.
It's all above-board and ship-shape.

"(Signed) George Benn_"

"Sound mind--above-board--ship-shape," repeated a dazed voice. "Where is
he?"

"Out at the back," replied Mr. Travers. "If you go to the window you can
see him. Now, do put something round your shoulders, there's a good
girl."

There was no reply, but a board creaked. He waited for what seemed a
long t