He flew out of bed, and, squeezing in behind the dressing-table, leant out of the window. Soft, impenetrable, wet darkness met him and enveloped him. A fine rain was falling, and he could see nothing, but he distinctly heard the hesitating footsteps turn and go round the house toward the front. Softly, on naked feet, he made his way to Edmund’s side and shook him. But Edmund was difficult to wake, for Montagu did not dare to speak above a whisper, and it was not until he had reiterated several times: "There’s someone creeping round the house; it’s a thief, probably," in the eeriest of stage whispers, that Edmund was roused. When he did grasp the situation, however, he arose instantly, exclaiming in a joyful whisper, "Come on, and let’s bash his head for him; then he can make no noise, nor break in neither." "That’s all very well," said the more cautious Montagu, whose teeth were chattering, partly from cold and partly from fear for his aunt. "We’ve got to catch him first. Let’s come to Guardie’s room and see if we can get a glimpse of the fellow from the window. The night’s as black as pitch though." Very quietly Montagu lit a candle, and the two little boys sped across the landing to Mr. Wycherly’s room. "Close the door behind you and that’ll stifle his groans," the valiant Edmund whispered as they reached their goal. "I just wish we had the villain here." "I don’t," Montagu responded gloomily, "he might jump about and make no end of a row before we got him under." They had no sort of doubt as to their ultimate triumph over the nefarious designs of this prowling stranger, but they were, unfortunately, handicapped by the necessity for extreme quietude. "I expect it’s the parlour he’ll be wanting to break into," Edmund suggested. "All those silver cups and things on the sideboard, you know. The basket with the forks and spoons is in aunt’s room. We must take care he doesn’t go there. Don’t let him see a light!" and Edmund promptly blew out the candle that Montagu held. Together they softly opened the window and leant out. Neither could, of course, see anything, nor at the moment was anything to be heard. "We’ll wait a wee while," Edmund whispered. And wait they did in breathless silence, shoulder pressed to shoulder, the only sound the quick beating of their hearts. Their patience was rewarded. The hesitating steps came slowly round to the front of the house and paused under their very window. Then somebody gave a low whistle. Montagu dragged Edmund back from the window. "That’s to summon his confederates. What’ll we do? If there’s more than one, they’re sure to wake Aunt Esperance and frighten her dreadfully. We must do something—quick!" "Will I fling out the poker on the chance of hitting him?" inquired Edmund, who had already provided himself with that weapon. "No, that won’t do, for if you don’t hit him, it would warn him we’d seen him——" "Perhaps it would make him run away."