“I thought I heard a noise in the night,” continued Honor; “I didn’t sleep very well, and I thought of going down to the dining-room to get a glass of water. Oh, Vic, suppose I had! I should have met them! Instead, I took some water from the pitcher in my room, and I remember setting the pitcher down on the floor with quite a hard thump. It was after that, I think, that I heard a sound like a door shutting. It grew very warm in the night, and I opened my window with quite a noise. I shouldn’t wonder if it had frightened them off.” “Have they taken much?” asked Victoria. “I don’t know yet, for everything is in confusion. Blanch came up to tell me. The silver was most of it in my room, fortunately. It is a good thing we are in the habit of bringing it up every night. How do you suppose they got in?” “I can imagine. Do you remember, Honor, that Katherine thought she heard some one in the shrubbery? I do wonder if the burglar was hiding there! How perfectly horrible it seems!” “And we walked about there looking for him! I must go up and tell Katherine, and when you are dressed, we will go down and make a careful search.” In the meantime, Sophy had waked up, and, hearing the news, could scarcely control her excitement. She flew about the room, constantly getting into Victoria’s way, begging to be helped with her innumerable buttons, and asking a thousand questions. “What is a buggler, Vic?” she demanded. “I always thought a buggler was some kind of a bug, like a buffalo bug, or something of that sort. Is it really a real live man? And what did he want in our house? And how did he get in, Vic, with the doors all locked and bolted? I say, Vic, how did he get in?” “I don’t know,” said Vic. “Sophy, do please get out of my way! I’m in such a hurry. Go stand by the window, there’s a good girl!” “But won’t you tell me what a buggler is?” pleaded Sophy. “I won’t stir if you’ll only tell me.” “It’s a robber. Do you know what that is?” “Of course I do. That is a sensible name. Any one would know that a robber robs, but a buggler!” “A buggler doesn’t bug,” said Victoria, laughing in spite of her hurry and dismay. “Let me tell you that it is _burglar_, and not buggler.” Sophy had by this time taken up her station by the window. “Why, Vic,” she cried, looking out, “did you know that all the vines are torn round this window? They’re just streaming! What do you s’pose has made ’em so?” Victoria ran to look. “They weren’t so last night,” said she. “Sophy, it looks exactly as if some one had climbed up here. Do you think the man could possibly have come in this way?” She stood by the window, reviewing hastily in her mind the events of the night. She had sat there for a long time and then had left the room. She had been absent not more than fifteen or twenty minutes, and when she came back the door was open. It gave her a most uncomfortable sensation to feel that the robber had actually been in her very room.