eak of the spring
mattress.

"What's that?" said Drayton, in an affrighted tone.

"For God's sake, be a man!" said Hugh, bitterly.

"D'ye call this a man's work?" muttered Drayton.

The light laugh once more. "Perhaps not so manly as robbing the dead and
dying," said Hugh Ritson, and his voice was deep and cold.

Mercy heard another muttered oath. Dear God! what was about to be done?
Could she escape? The door was closed. Still, if she could but reach it,
she might open it and fly away.

At that instant, Hugh Ritson, as if apprehending her thought, said,
"Wait," and then stepped back to the door and drew the snap bolt. Mercy
leaned against the wall, and heard the beating of her heart. In the
darkness she knew that Paul Drayton had thrown off his coat. "A good
riddance!" he muttered, and the heavy garment fell with a thud.

Hugh Ritson had returned to the bed-head. "Give me a hand," he said;
"raise him gently--there, I'll hold him up--now draw off his
coat--quietly, one arm at a time. Is it free? Then, lift--away."

Another heavy garment fell with a thud.

"What's the fence got in his other pockets, eh?"

"Come, lend your hand again--draw off the boots--they're Cumberland
make, and yours are cockney style--quick!"

Drayton stepped to the bottom of the bed and fumbled at the feet of the
insensible man. He was then within a yard of the spot where the girl
stood. She could feel his proximity, and the alcoholic fumes of his
breath rose to her nostrils. She was dizzy, and thought she must have
fallen. She stretched out one hand to save herself, and it fell on to
the bed-rail. It was within a foot of Drayton's arm.

"Take off his stockings--they're homespun--while I remove the cravat.
The pin was a present; it has his name engraved on the plate behind."

The slant of the moonlight had died off the floor, and all was dark.

Drayton's craven fears seemed to leave him. He laughed and crowed. "How
quiet the fence is--very obliging, I'm sure--just fainted in the nick of
time. Will it last?"

"Quick! strip off your own clothes and put them where these have come
from. The coat with the torn lapel--where is it? Make no mistake about
that."

"I'll pound it, no!" Drayton laughed a short, hoarse laugh.

There was some shuffling in the darkness. Then a pause.

"Hush!"

Mercy knew that Hugh Ritson had grasped the arm of Drayton, and that
both held their breath. At that moment the moonlight returned, and the
bleared