ce, and a chloroformed handkerchief."

"Oh, Auntie! Auntie! Never!"

"Where is your husband? Is he in your room?"

No. For Augustus, ever a restless sleeper, had thought he heard
something stirring in the room beneath, and, later, a footstep on the
stair. He had risen, therefore, had taken the pistol, which always lay
loaded by his side, and gone down to investigate.

Auntie opened her mouth to speak, but closed it without a sound; her
eyes, with their most vacant stare, were turned upon her niece; she
gathered her underlip loosely beneath her teeth.

It was not until the servants, also aroused by the bell, but having
waited to dress, came to Auntie's room, that Mrs Mellish was at liberty
to run down to seek her husband.

There was no doubt about the house having been entered, she said, on
her return; Auntie had by no means _dreamt_ the burglar.

("No!" interpolated Auntie, with a solemnly emphatic shake of the
head.)

A window broken in the kitchen, and a wide-open sash had showed the
exploring Gussie the means of ingress. In the dining-room it was
evident that a couple of glasses of brandy had been drunk, but none of
the silver on the sideboard had been touched. Too clearly, Auntie and
her possessions had been the objects of the attempt.

Auntie nodded gloomy affirmation, trembling and gasping in her chair.
Where was Gussie, she asked; and showed relief and satisfaction when
told he had gone to give notice of the affair to the police. But not
even the promise that the servants and Grace would sit beside her and
watch her while she slept would induce the poor lady to go to bed
again.

"Not in this house. Never again in this house," she protested.

And even when morning brought a cessation of panic and a certain sense
of security to all, she could not be persuaded to change her mind.

"I should die if I ever trusted myself to fall asleep under this roof
again," she said. "Let me get away from it as soon as possible. I am
fifty years of age, but I've never had a bad shock before in my life. I
won't risk a second."

The swarthy, fat, foolish face was pale and flabby and aged from the
night's adventure and the sleepless hours following.

"Auntie, I am sure you are not well enough to travel," Grace said. But,
with a grim determination, Auntie persisted.

"The first train. I should like to get away by the very first."

"It isn't our fault, remember," Grace said, firing up. "It isn't as if
we _arranged_ a