"What are you going to do, Becky?" asked Mrs. Bailey; "Don't leave me!" "I must," I said, firmly. "For about five minutes. I will come back. I promise you faithfully I will come back. Are you afraid to be left alone?" "Somebody--or _something_--might come into the room while you are away," said the old lady, shuddering. "If you _must_ go, lock me in, and take the key with you. But don't be longer than five minutes, if you have a spark of pity for a poor, deserted old woman!" I acted upon her suggestion. I locked her in and went---- Where? Upstairs or down? Up, to Richard Manx's room. I reached his door and listened. No sound came to my ears--no sound of a waking or sleeping inmate of the room. I retreated down half-a-dozen stairs with a heavy tread. No one appeared at the attic door to inquire the meaning of the noise. I ascended the stairs again, and, with a woman's touch, placed my hand on the handle of the door. It yielded. I looked into the room. No person was there. I ventured boldly in. The room was empty! Assuring myself of this, I left the room as quickly as I had entered it. I did not pause at Mrs. Bailey's room on the first floor. I went down to the street door, and quietly put up the door chain. _Now_, no person could possibly enter or leave the house without my knowledge. Then I went down to Mrs. Preedy in the kitchen, and said that Mrs. Bailey was unwell, and wished me to stop with her for a little while. "Stop, and welcome, Becky," said Mrs. Preedy, with the sweetest smile. What a power is money! My fanciful legacy of a paltry three hundred pounds had placed this woman and me on an equality, and she was the first to acknowledge it. I ascended to Mrs. Bailey's room, and unlocked her door. I had really not been absent for more than five minutes, but she said it seemed like thirty. I remained with her for over an hour, during which time the muffled sounds in the next house continued. I convinced myself that they could not be heard in any other room by going out, now and again, for a few moments, and listening in other rooms on the first and second floors. At length the sound ceased, and after waiting a quarter of an hour longer without it being renewed, I bade Mrs. Bailey good night, telling her, in a cheerful voice, that she was mistaken in supposing there were no mice in the empty house next door. "Are you sure it is mice, Becky?" she asked, anxiously. "Am I sure?" I repeated, laughing. "Why, you nervous old creature, what else can it be? Let us make a bargain to say nothing about it except to each other, or we shall have everybody laughing at us. And what would be worse, the detectives might appear again." The bargain was made, and I kissed the old lady, and left her. I went straight upstairs, cautiously, as before. Richard Manx was in his room!