“Murder! thieves! police! help!” screamed the woman, in a shrill penetrating voice, which rang like a clarion note in the night air. “You nasty, ugly, good-for-nothing, thieving scamp!” she continued. “You hideous, murderous wretch!” Peace was terribly bruised; a noise as of rushing waters was in his ears, and his temples throbbed and ached most terribly. By a violent effort he wrested the broom from the hands of his assailant. He was wound up to a state of fury, and lost his usual prudence. To be so unmercifully beaten by a woman was positively intolerable. In all his adventures he had never been so cruelly used. But he would not be baffled――he would have reprisals. He jumped on to the top of the stone facing of the balustrade which ran in front of the house, and, broom in hand, struck a defiant attitude. “Don’t you think to master me, you vile, dirty slut,” he ejaculated; and, with these words, he aimed a blow at his enemy, who very prudently retired into the interior of the room. The only effect the blow had was to smash one of the front windows. “If I can only get in,” muttered Peace, “I shall be all right. I’ll soon silence that old Jezebel. Without doubt she has been left in charge of the house. I’ll give it her, worth her money, when I do get in. Curse it, how my head aches!” He balanced himself on the top of the stonework, as deftly as ah acrobat; then he caught the edge of the balcony with the big end of his broom, and was preparing himself for a final spring when another actor came upon the scene. A buxom servant girl appeared at the open window. She was armed with a mop. Seeing that Peace was about to scale the balcony, she threw out the mop much the same as a Zulu does his spear, and delivered such a terrific blow on Peace’s face that he was hurled back, and fell upon the gravel path in front in a state of insensibility. The old woman and her maid were masters of the field. Their foe remained prostrate and helpless in front of the citadel. Again the cries “Help! Police!” rose in the air. They resounded far and near. The servant girl now brought to the window a pail of dirty water, which she threw over the vanquished burglar. This bad the effect of restoring him to consciousness. He made an effort to rise, but he was so dizzy, so utterly prostrated, that he was almost helpless for a time. The mistress and her maid had the prudence not to sally forth till assistance had arrived, for they were by no means certain as to the real state of the enemy. He might, after all, only be shamming, and it would not be advisable to risk an engagement in the open field. They had recourse, therefore, to “sound the alarm,” by repeated screams and cries for assistance. Much to their delight, a constable opened the garden gate, and flashed his bull’s-eye in all directions. By the light of his lantern he discovered Peace stretched on the garden walk. “Now, then, get up, man,” said the constable to Peace.