Rising from his comfortable posture by the fire with a reluctance that made the act heroic, the landlord went forth to the stable, and bade Will Jackson follow him. He procured a ladder there. He had it borne without, and, under cover of the darkness, reared it with caution against the sill of the window of his guests. Drawn shutters guarded the window; but, as Gamaliel was well aware, they lacked some two inches of the top of the casement. A thread of candle-light shone through the chink. The work of a spy was therefore not likely to be difficult. Ordering Will Jackson to hold his peace and also at the same time to hold the ladder, the eager old landlord, infirm as he was, first climbed to the top himself to discover how the land lay. No night-thief could have been more astutely skilful. It is true he scaled the ladder in a gingerly manner, but never a sound did he make. Planting his feet firmly on the highest rung but one, he cocked his cunning eyes over the top of the shutter, and was rewarded by a clear view of the chamber, and the unhappy persons there immured. It was a piece of good fortune that the bed was facing the window. The landlord was the better able to regard its occupant. He was half prepared to discover that the young man was the victim of no malady whatsoever. He would not be surprised to find him quite hale and hearty. Nay, so little faith had he in this young man’s condition, that should he prove to have left the chamber secretly already, and gone away in stealth, he was not likely to be astounded. It so befell, however, that the landlord had no grounds for his suspicions. For there confronting him the sufferer lay. By the mellow light of the candles he saw him prone in the bed, as ghastly as death. He was wide awake, but lay with glazed eyes and a face convulsed with agony. The woman was binding a cloth steeped in water about his forehead. In spite of the night’s bitterness, the landlord had so intense an interest in that which was passing before his eyes, that he betrayed no desire to leave his perch for the present. Looking down upon these unconscious persons from his high situation, he felt fairly secure from discovery. And was it not exhilarating to see without being seen! He must contrive to hear too. A chance phrase might reveal their identity. Thus, notwithstanding that poor Will Jackson was shivering in the cold below, the landlord took his jackknife from his pocket and began to whittle away a piece of the wooden window frame. Already rotten with decay, it yielded readily to the silent deftness that was brought to bear upon it. There was soon a hole big enough for Gamaliel’s ear. At once he could detect the gasps and low groans of the man in the bed. And he heard the woman say, in her soft low tones that thrilled to the heart like music: “We can delay no longer, mine own; it must be done. Canst thou not trust me?”