Meantime Reginald, in reality, was staying at the farm on a little business of his own. He had concerted an expedition with the foreign gent, and was waiting for a dark and gusty night. He had undertaken this expedition with mixed motives, spite and greed, especially the latter. He would never have undertaken it with a 500 pound check in his pocket; but some minds are so constituted they cannot forego a bad design once formed: so Mr. Reginald persisted, though one great motive existed no longer. On this expedition it is now our lot to accompany him. The night was favorable, and at about two o'clock Reginald and the foreign gent stood under Richard Bassett's dining-room window, with crape over their eyes, noses and mouths, and all manner of unlawful implements in their pockets. The foreign gent prized the shutters open with a little crowbar; he then, with a glazier's diamond, soon cut out a small pane, inserted a cunning hand and opened the window. Then Reginald gave him a leg, and he got into the room. The agile youth followed him without assistance. They lighted a sort of bull's-eye, and poured the concentrated light on the cupboard door, behind which lay the treasure of glorious old plate. Then the foreign gent produced his skeleton keys, and after several ineffective trials, opened the door softly and revealed the glittering booty. At sight of it the foreign gent could not suppress an ejaculation, but the younger one clapped his hand before his mouth hurriedly. The foreign gent unrolled a sort of green baize apron he had round him; it was, in reality, a bag. Into this receptacle the pair conveyed one piece of plate after another with surprising dexterity, rapidity, and noiseless-ness. When it was full, they began to fill the deep pockets of their shooting-jackets. While thus employed, they heard a rapid footstep, and Richard Bassett opened the door. He was in his trousers and shirt, and had a pistol in his hand. At sight of him Reginald uttered a cry of dismay; the foreign gent blew out the light. Richard Bassett, among whose faults want of personal courage was not one, rushed forward and collared Reginald. But the foreign gent had raised the crowbar to defend himself, and struck him a blow on the head that made him stagger back. The foreign gent seized this opportunity, and ran at once at the window and jumped at it. If Reginald had been first, he would have gone through like a cat, but the foreign gent, older, and obstructed by the contents of his pocket, higgled and stuck a few seconds in the window. That brief delay was fatal; Richard Bassett leveled his pistol deliberately at him, fired, and sent a ball through his shoulder; he fell like a log upon the ground outside.