"Is there nothing else that I could nab?" he said to himself. "Silver spoons aren’t usually found in country lodgings, so it’s no use looking in the sideboard, but I think I caught sight of a missionary-box on the mantelpiece which might be worth enquiring into, seeing there’s not much else to bag. "Ha! Pretty heavy!" he added, as he weighed the box is his hand. "With no disrespect to the missionary, I’ll relieve him from having to dispose of too much wealth. Pennies, no doubt, mostly, but they tell no tales, and come in handy for a drink." As he was in the act of putting the box into his other pocket, he saw to his dismay that the light was again approaching the door. "I’ve particular reasons for not showing my attractive face in this neighbourhood, lady," he continued under his breath, "so with your leave I’ll decline the pleasure of making your acquaintance this evening, and go back by the way I came." He made his way hastily to the window, and was in the act of getting out, when the light of the lamp flashed out over the garden from the porch. Madelaine had found her little son fast asleep in the tiny room which opened off her own, and her motherly anxiety being allayed, her thoughts turned again to outside dangers. "I’ll close the parlour window," she said, "as it’s getting late, just in case there might be some one loitering about." By experience she had discovered that to do this efficiently it was necessary to push the sash up from outside, so placing the lamp on the porch-seat, she walked a few steps along the path which led by the front of the cottage, and proceeded to shut up the casement with a bang. The stranger had just time to withdraw his hands from the sill, and to start back into the darkness of the room. "Look out there!" he growled low to himself, "I don’t want to leave the tip of one of my fingers in exchange for what I’ve taken. Now," he added, "the question is--how shall I get out of this hole? My knowledge of old Mother Sheppard’s diggings in the past ought to serve me in good stead to-night. If I can only manage to slip into the dark passage that leads to the kitchen, I know there’s a capital hidey-hole under the stairs, where I’ve lain in ambush as a boy, and into which I expect I could squeeze again at a pinch." Sure enough, before Madelaine had re-entered the house and reached the sitting-room with her lamp, the intruder had gained the coveted refuge, and was crouching down unseen within the recess. Here he remained, cramped and silent, until the last sounds had died away in the house, and the uneasy watcher had laid herself down to rest. Not till then did he creep forth from his shelter and make his way to the kitchen, into which he walked as one intimate with the place.