The night was cold, and shawls thrown over shoulders was the mode, while slowly see-sawing her body backwards and forwards in bed, Mary, after once reading, went back and epitomised the tale for Cook's benefit, that lady not having been very clear upon two or three points. "Then," said Mary, "when she finds as her par won't let her marry De Belleville, she sits by the open winder, with the snow rivalling her arm's whiteness, and a lamenting of her hard fate, and it's quite dark, and her lover comes and begs of her to fly with him." "Go in a fly," said Cook, approvingly. "No! no! go off with him," said Mary. "Ah! I see," said Cook, "go on." "And, after being begged and prayed a deal, she says as she will, and he fetches the ladder; and, just as she's done falling on his neck and weeping, a mysterious voice says--" "Oh!" cried the domestics in horrified tones as they clung together, for in the stillness of the night there was a fearful cry from below stairs, followed by the noise of something heavy falling. "It's the biler busted, Mary!" shivered and sobbed the cook. "Oh no, it's master being murdered," gasped Mary; "I know it is. Ennery! Ennery! Ennery!" she cried, banging at the frail partition wall to arouse Buttons, who at last condescended to wake up and knock in answer. "Oh! do get up and go down; there's something the matter!" cried Mary and Cook together. "Oh, ah! you go," came back in muffled tones from the sweet youth. "Oh, do go, there's a good boy!" said Cook sweetly; "do go down and see." "Ah! I dessay," said Buttons, recalling the morning's treatment. A compromise was at length effected, and the three domestics stood upon the top of the staircase gazing down, while the moon looked sideways at them through the skylight. "Ah! I see you!" cried Cook to an imaginary burglar. "You'd better go: here's the perlice a-coming," which was a great fib of Mrs Cook's, for there was not a policeman near; though, from the lady's tones and confident way of speaking, it might have been imagined that there was a police barracks on the roof, just within call. "Cook!" cried a faint voice. "There. I know'd it was!" cried Mary. "It's master, half killed." "Here, help! come down!" came up again faintly. "Oh! we dussen't, sir!" chorused Mr Dodd's servants.