"Ay," cried the more erudite and sententious Augustus Tomlinson, roused by success from his usual philosophical sobriety; "no work is so pleasant as night-work, and the witches our ancestors burned were in the right to ride out on their broomsticks with the awls and the stars. We are their successors now, Ned. We are your true fly-by-nights!" "Only," quoth Ned, "we are a cursed deal more clever than they were; for they played their game without being a bit the richer for it, and we--I say, Tomlinson, where the devil did you put that red morocco case?" "Experience never enlightens the foolish," said Tomlinson, "or you would have known, without asking, that I had put it in the very safest pocket in my coat. 'Gad, how heavy it is! "Well," cried Pepper, "I can't say I wish it were lighter! Only think of our robbing my lord twice, and on the same road too!" "I say, Lovett," exclaimed Tomlinson, "was it not odd that we should have stumbled upon our Bath friend so unceremoniously? Lucky for us that we are so strict in robbing in masks! He would not have thought the better of Bath company if he had seen our faces." Lovett, or rather Clifford, had hitherto been silent. He now turned slowly in his saddle, and said: "As it was, the poor devil was very nearly despatched. Long Ned was making short work with him, if I had not interposed!" "And why did you?" said Ned. "Because I will have no killing; it is the curse of the noble art of our profession to have passionate professors like thee." "Passionate!" repeated Ned. "Well, I am a little choleric, I own it; but that is not so great a fault on the road as it would be in housebreaking. I don't know a thing that requires so much coolness and self-possession as cleaning out a house from top to bottom,--quietly and civilly, mind you!" "That is the reason, I suppose, then," said Augustus, "that you altogether renounced that career. Your first adventure was house breaking, I think I have heard you say. I confess it was a vulgar debut,--not worthy of you!" "No! Harry Cook seduced me; but the specimen I saw that night disgusted me of picking locks; it brings one in contact with such low companions. Only think, there was a merchant, a rag-merchant, one of the party!" "Faugh!" said Tomlinson, in solemn disgust. "Ay, you may well turn up your lip; I never broke into a house again." "Who were your other companions?" asked Augustus. "Only Harry Cook, --[A noted highwayman.]--and a very singular woman--"