“Follow me,” said he, and led the way to the front division of the house. He coolly locked behind them the doors which connected it with the servants’ quarters, so as to secure them from that source of danger. The library and drawing-room received the careful attention of Mr. Bevan and two of his colleagues. The butler’s pantry was left to the skilful and efficient manipulation of an experienced “magsman,” who fully understood what metal spoil was worth carrying away. The whole place was ransacked, and so far without suspicion or alarm. One great object of this very unceremonious visit, however, was as yet ungained. This was nothing less than the capture of certain jewel-cases, whose contents were of great and notable value, and which were, as Bevan well knew, placed for safe keeping in a certain room on the second floor. Ascending the stairs, Buckley stumbled and fell, and Squire Fuller, who in wakeful unrest had imagined that he heard noises about, leaped from his bed, and hastened to Philip’s bedroom, in fear lest something was the matter with his son. As soon as he had opened the door, out bounded “Oscar,” Philip’s canine companion and friend, who leaped to the first landing, and pinned one crape-veiled villain to the floor. Just then Lucy Blyth, who had been awakened by the stumbling of Bill Buckley, lighted her lamp, put on her dressing-gown, and appeared upon the scene in real alarm. The squire, with uplifted candle in his hand, was peering down the stairs. Lucy’s young and keener vision saw Bill Buckley point a loaded pistol. A moment more, and the bullet would have sped on its fatal errand; but Lucy, on the impulse of the moment, screamed aloud, and throwing her lighted lamp with all her force at the villain’s extended arm, his aim was diverted, and the shot was lodged in the wall. From the next flight of stairs had come a third witness on the scene--none other than the squire’s mysterious guest. Standing in his shirt, leaning over the balustrade, with peering eyes, unkempt hair, and extended hands, he caught the attention of Bill Buckley. That worthy turned livid as death, staggered back a few paces with lifted hands, and gasping out, “The ghost of Black Morris!” fell backward down the stair! At this turn of events, Aubrey Bevan, ever quick to realise results, darted down the stairs, and retreated by the way he had come. He gave no passing thought to the wretched girl he had entrapped, but bearing with him a small tin box and other booty which he had stolen from the library, he took his flight through park and garden, and left his companions in guilt to the tender mercies of those they had sought to harm. The stranger speedily bound Bill Buckley, whose heavy fall and guilty conscience had for a while almost stopped the beating of his heart. The second villain, who lay at the mercy of the noble beast, which would have strangled him had he struggled, was then bound hand and foot by the servants, whom the squire had aroused. Mr. Fuller