"I lighted safely on the ledge of the door," pursued Gilbert, "but when I gave the necessary push, I found that it refused to stir. It had been made up from the inside." "Something underneath the door, which stuck, of course," said Stevens. "I took out my knife," replied Gilbert, "and with great difficulty steadied myself so that I could pass the blade under the door. There was nothing underneath, but the door refused to stir." "What did you do then?" "Came back to you directly, to ask you whether we ought to leave the country." "You did not try at the other end?" "In broad daylight? Mr. Stevens, what can you be thinking of?" "The interests of the cause, my friend." "Ah, well! I have the greatest respect for the interests of the cause, but I have also a slight disposition to attend to the interests of Gilbert Irvine." "That is precisely your bane, my excellent Gilbert. And there are other defects in you beside." "And pray, what excuse could you have devised to gain entrance?" "Gilbert, I wonder at your marvellous incapacity for lying. Now it comes quite natural to me." "Seems so," said Gilbert, grimly. "Well, as your disposition to attend to the interests of Gilbert Irvine is so strong, I will not require more of you than to attempt the entrance by night. I noticed when I left the house that one of the drawing-room windows was unfastened. You can get in that way, and pass through Mrs. Celia's chamber." "I'm blessed if I'll try that style of putting my neck in a noose for you more than this once!" Gilbert burst forth. "I don't ask it of you more than this once," replied Stevens. "And suppose they have fastened the window since you were there, as is probably the case?" "If you cannot get in, come back to me. We must find out whether they have discovered the hiding-place. But I will take the next chance myself; and, Gilbert, it shall be in broad daylight." Gilbert stared at him, and shook his head with an incredulous laugh. "You are a poor conspirator, Gilbert," lamented Stevens. "Can you plaster a wall?" "No," said Gilbert. "I can. Can you mend a harpsichord?" "Not I, indeed." "I can. And can you make a tansy pudding?" "Holy Mary! such women's work!" "Women are useful, my friend, in their way--occasionally. And it is desirable, now and then, even for the nobler sex, to know how to do women's work. Now I dare say you have not the least notion how a shirt is made? I can sew beautifully." "By the head of St. Barbara!"--Gilbert began. "Avoid Catholic oaths, Gilbert, if you please. And never be above learning. Pick up all you can--no matter what. It may come in use some time." "I wish you would tell me how you mean to get in?" "Mr. Passmore was observing at dinner that he wanted a new under-footman. I shall offer myself for the place." Gilbert's eyes and mouth opened rather wide.