staring with wide-open eyes. The man dropped nimbly down
upon the grass and walked noiselessly across the lawn.

They watched him eagerly, feeling that their sufferings were about to be
rewarded, wondering whether they ought to follow or wait. If the first,
they might be discovered; the second, they might lose him. For once in
his life Tony was at a loss. He had reckoned on Brown's arrival, but not
at a different hour, pursuing a new course. What was the best plan?

Fortunately the period of suspense was short. The figure, which had
disappeared for a moment round the corner of the house, came into view
once more. It still moved with surpassing stealth, but now it was
carrying a long unwieldy object in one hand. It was a ladder. Tony
nearly whistled when he saw this ominous contrivance, and Robert
quivered with a satisfying impatience for the coming drama. Were they to
see a new version of _Romeo and Juliet_, or was it merely a vulgar
burglary?

The man paused, surveyed the blank unlighted house, and then reared his
ladder against a window. He climbed rapidly up, but after a brief
inspection descended with equal swiftness. He raised the ladder with no
obvious effort, carried it some little distance along, and placed it at
another window. It was clear that he was correcting a mistake.

"What"--began Robert in a thick whisper, but Tony clapped a hand on his
mouth, fearing lest the faintest sound might betray them. Not that there
was any real danger, for the night-prowler was twenty yards away, the
wind had begun to rise, and the tree branches were sighing loudly enough
to drown a human murmur. But Tony meant to run no risks: he was
determined to see the play through to the end. Not the quiver of an
eyelash must betray them. At all costs, silence.

They saw Brown--for who else could it be?--rear the ladder, then shift
it a little to get a better foundation. He tried it with his hand to
make sure that it was firm. At last, satisfied and resolute, he placed
one foot upon it and began to climb. The watchers held their breath,
unconscious of the drama within a drama about to burst upon them. Robert
was trembling, his mouth still covered by Tony's precautionary hand.
Brown was on the second rung, when the window above was suddenly flung
open. The mysterious Billy leaned out, jug in hand. "Good evening!" he
said distinctly, in pleasant gentlemanly accents that reached the
watchers in the elders: "good evening. Have a drink?"