ring on her
coffin-lid: I marvel that she did not take it for a death-watch tapping
to warn her of her end. But no: Simon held his hand against his heart to
keep it quiet: he was so very fearful the pitapating would betray him.
Never mind, Simon; don't be afraid; she is fast asleep already; and her
snore is to thee as it were the challenge of a trumpeter calling to the
conflict.

CHAPTER XXVII.

ROBBERY.

Hush--hush--hush!

Stealthily on tiptoe, with finger on his lips, that fore-doomed man
crept out.

"The key is in the cupboard still--ha! how lucky: saves time that, and
trouble, and--and--risk! Oh, no--there can be no risk now," and the
wretch added, "thank God!"

The devil loves such piety as this.

So Simon quietly turned the key, and set the cupboard open: it was to
him a Bluebeard's chamber, a cave of the Forty Thieves, a garden of the
Genius in Aladdin, a mysterious secret treasure-house of wealth
uncounted and unseen.

What a galaxy of pickle-pots! tier behind tier of undoubted
currant-jelly, ranged like the houses in Algiers! vasty jars of
gooseberry! delicate little cupping-glasses full of syruped fruits! Yet
all these candied joys, which probably enhance a Mrs. Rundle's heaven,
were as nothing in the eyes of Simon--sweet trash, for all he cared
they might be vulgar treacle. His ken saw nothing but the
honey-pots--embarrassing array--a round dozen of them! All alike, all
posted in a brown line, like stout Dutch sentinels with their hands in
their breeches pockets, and set aloft on that same high-reached shelf.
Must he really take them all? impracticable: a positive sack full.
What's to be done?--which is he to leave behind? that old witch
contrived this identity and multitude for safety's sake. But what if he
left the wrong one, and got clear off with the valuable booty of two
dozen pounds of honey? Confusion! that'll never do: he must take them
all, or none; all, all's the word; and forthwith, as tenderly as
possible, the puzzled thief took down eleven pots of honey to his one of
gold--all pig-bladdered, all Fortnumed--all slimy at the string;
"Confound that cunning old aunt of mine," said Simon, aloud; and took no
notice that the snores surceased.

Then did he spread upon the table a certain shawl, and set the crocks in
order on it: and it was quite impossible to leave behind that pretty
ostentatious "Savings' Bank," which the shrewd hoarder kept as a feint
to lure thieves from her hidd