"Listen. Many a promising career of--er--appropriation has come to an abrupt and sordid end, and all because success but whetted where it should have satisfied." He addressed my sister. "Happily for you, you do not sleep in your pearls. Otherwise, since you are here, I might have fallen... Who knows? As it is, pearls, diamonds and the emerald bracelets that came from Prague--you see, madam, I know them all--will lie upstairs untouched. I came for silver, and I shall take nothing else. Some day, perhaps..." The quiet sing-song of his voice faded, and only the murmur of the ceaseless dictation remained. Then that, too, faltered and died.... For a second master and men stood motionless. Then the former pointed to Daphne and me, and Numbers Three and Four whipped to our side. Somebody, whistling softly, was descending the stairs.... Just as it became recognizable the air slid out of a whistle into a song, and my unwitting brother-in-law invested the last two lines with all the mockery of pathos of which his inferior baritone voice was capable. "I'm for ever b-b-blowing b-b-bub-b-bles, B-blinkin' b-bub-b-bles in the air." He entered upon the last word, started ever so slightly at his reception, and then stood extremely still. "Bubbles be blowed," he said. "B-b-burglars, what? Shall I moisten the lips? Or would you rather I wore a sickly smile? I should like it to be a good photograph. You know, you can't touch me, Reggibald. I'm in balk." His eyes wandered round the room. "Why, there's Nobby. And what's the game? Musical Chairs? I know a better one than that." His eyes returned to the master. "Now, don't you look and I'll hide in the hassock! Then, when I say 'Cuckoo,' you put down the musket and wish. Then--excuse me." Calmly he twitched a Paisley shawl from the back of the sofa and crossed to his wife. Tenderly he wrapped it about her feet and knees. By the time he had finished a third chair was awaiting him, and Numbers Three and Four had returned to their work. "Pray sit down," drawled the master. "And lean well back.... That's right. You know, I'm awfully sorry you left your bed." "Don't mention it," said Berry. "I wouldn't have missed this for any thing. How's Dartmoor looking?" The fat rogue sighed. "I have not had a holiday," he said, "for nearly two years. And night work tells, you know. Of course I rest during the day, but it isn't the same." "How wicked! And they call this a free country. I should see your M.P. about it. Or wasn't he up when you called?" The other shook his head. "As a matter of fact," he said, "he was out of Town. George, give the gentleman a match." The packer picked up a match-stand and set it by Berry's side. "I'm so sorry about the chocolates. You see, I wasn't expecting----Hullo!"