ary revelry. He and Judith had amassed, in
one way or other, a vast quantity of spoil, and frequently planned how
they would spend it when the pestilence ceased. Their treasure was
carefully concealed in a cell in one of the secret passages with which
they were acquainted, leading from Saint Faith's to the upper structure.

One night, on his return from Finsbury Fields, as Chowles was seated in
the crypt, with a pipe in his mouth, and a half-finished flask of wine
before him, he was startled by the sudden entrance of Judith, who,
rushing up to him, seized him by the throat, and almost choked him
before he could extricate himself.

"What is the matter?--would you strangle me, you murderous harridan?" he
cried.

"Ay, that I would," replied Judith, preparing to renew the attack.

"Stand off!" rejoined Chowles, springing back, and snatching up a spade,
"or I will dash out your brains. Are you mad?" he continued, gazing
fearfully at her.

"I am angry enough to make me so," she replied, shaking her clenched
fists at him. "But I will be revenged--revenged, I tell you."

"Revenged!" cried Chowles, in astonishment--"for what! What have I
done!"

"You do well to affect ignorance," rejoined Judith, "but you cannot
deceive me. No one but you can have done it."

"Done what!" exclaimed Chowles, in increased astonishment. "Has our
hoard been discovered?"

"Ay, and been carried off--by you--you!" screamed Judith, with a look
worthy of a fury.

"By my soul, you are wrong," cried Chowles. "I have never touched
it,--never even approached the hiding-place, except in your presence."

"Liar!" returned Judith, "the whole hoard is gone;--the plunder I
obtained in Newgate,--the Earl of Rochester's plate,--all the rings,
trinkets, and rich apparel I have picked up since,--everything is
gone;--and who but you can be the robber?"

"It is difficult to say," rejoined Chowles. "But I swear to you, you
suspect me wrongfully."

"Restore it," replied Judith, "or tell me where it is hidden. If not, I
will be the death of you?"

"Let us go to the hiding-place," replied Chowles, whose uneasiness was
not diminished by the menace. "You may be mistaken, and I hope you are."

Though he uttered the latter part of his speech with seeming confidence,
his heart misgave him. To conceal his trepidation, he snatched up a
lamp, and passing through the secret door, hurried along the narrow
stone passage. He was about to open the cell, when he perceiv