harping upon some one of
the unpleasant topics that occupied his thoughts was his only
entertainment when he grew tired of cards or backgammon.

Phoebe sat up late writing to Robert a more minute account of Mervyn's
illness, which she thought must plead for him; and rather sad at heart,
she had gone to bed and fallen asleep, when far on in the night a noise
startled her. She did not suspect her own imagination of being to blame,
except so far as the associations with illness in the house might have
recalled the sounds that once had been wont to summon her to her mother's
room. The fear that her brother might be worse made her listen, till the
sounds became matters of certainty. Springing to the window, her eyes
seemed to stiffen with amaze as she beheld in the clear, full moonlight,
on the frosty sward, the distinctly-traced shadow of a horse and cart.
The objects themselves were concealed by a clump of young trees, but
their forms were distinctly pictured on the turf, and the conviction
flashed over her that a robbery must be going forward.

'Perils and dangers of this night, indeed!' One prayer, one thought.
She remembered the great house-bell, above the attic stairs in the
opposite wing, at the other end of the gallery, which led from the top of
the grand staircase, where the chief bedroom doors opened, and a jet of
gas burnt all night on the balustrade. Throwing on her dressing-gown,
she sped along the passage, and pushing open the swing-door, beheld
Mervyn at the door of his own room, and at the head of the stairs a man,
in whom she recognized the discarded footman, raising a pistol. One
swift bound--her hand was on the gas-pipe. All was darkness, save a dim
stripe from within the open door of her mother's former dressing-room,
close to where she stood. She seized the lock, drew it close, and had
turned the key before the hand within had time to wrench round the inner
handle. That same instant, the flash and report of a pistol made her cry
out her brother's name.

'Hollo! what did you put out the light for?' he angrily answered; and as
she could just distinguish his white shirt sleeves, she sprang to him.
Steps went hurriedly down the stairs. 'Gone!' they both cried at once;
Mervyn, with an imprecation on the darkness, adding, 'Go and ring the
bell. I'll watch here.'

She obeyed, but the alarm had been given, and the house was astir.
Candle-light gleamed above--cries, steps, and exclamations were hea