the goods.

Suddenly Arthur stopped, and turning to Quirk, whispered faintly: "I
can't go on. Oh, this is awful, awful! Think of my poor brother, sick,
maybe dying, in that room yonder, and I engaged thus! Oh! I never, never
can go on!"

"Furies!" muttered Quirk, between his teeth, "this is a pretty time for
such thoughts! The brat in yonder is doing well enough, I'll be bound;
but if you give him time to come out here and see you, he would die for
certain. You may just as well yell out and give us all up to the police
as to stop now--a nice body you are to take _revenge_."

That one last word acted as a spur, and Arthur again resumed the packing
of the bags, and Quirk coming up to him, said, softly:--

"Now you're a man again--ain't ashamed of you now. Here's a mask for
you, tie it on. I don't fear detection, but it won't do any harm to wear
it. I've got one for myself."

Arthur obeyed mechanically, and tied the mask over his features and went
on with his work. Boxes were rifled, drawers were emptied and shelves
left vacant. The bags were filled. Everything light and valuable that
could be stowed away in them had been, and Quirk and Arthur passed them
up into the window for Clinton to set into the street. He lifted them
all out, and wrapped them in oil cloth to prevent the goods from being
damaged by the rain. He placed them in a pile beneath the window arch,
so that they might be easily lifted away even by two strong pair of
arms, and left them there, certain that the raging storm would prevent
all chance of discovery. Quirk had crept out also, through the open
pane, after having placed the goods in the window, and now seated
himself upon the pile and wiped his brow, like one wearied with a long
fatiguing task.

Arthur had wrapped his cloak around him preparing to leave, when Clinton
again made his appearance at the window and vaulted into the store.

"I want to see if you have made a clean sweep," said he, taking Arthur's
lantern from his hand, and passing lightly up through the store with a
practised tread and running his eye eagerly over the shelves. "Velvets,"
said he, suddenly pausing to read the lable of a large box. "Why the
devil didn't you get them?" and forthwith he drew it down and turned its
rich contents out into an immense bandanna handkerchief which he drew
from his breast.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake don't stop for them!" whispered Arthur,
nervously, "let's be gone!"

"Zounds, man! here's a lit