"We'll take care of the bags," whispered Clinton, hurriedly, to Arthur; "you fly up that alley, get you to bed, and take care of yourself, you'll only hinder us if you go along--pull off your boots." Loaded with their booty, Clinton and Quirk passed away like shadows in the stormy darkness, and bewildered, yet aware of the stern necessity for obeying Clinton's advice, Arthur drew off his boots and darted like light up the alley, noiselessly unlocked the small door, fastened it, and once more breathed in his own room. Quick as thought he rinsed the mud from his boots in some water he knew where to find, turned the India rubber cloak wrong side out and hung it on the peg whence he had taken it, undressed, all in that to him fearful darkness, and once more sought his pillow, without causing a break in the loud snoring of Jeff who still slumbered on his mattress, unconscious of the trouble soon to fall on his devoted head. Clasping his hands upon his wildly beating heart, Arthur lay still to listen for any sound to indicate that life had returned to Guly, or that Wilkins had awakened. For the first time, he bethought him of his mask, and raising his hand to his face found it had fallen off, probably, he concluded, in his hurried flight through the window. CHAPTER XXVIII. "Who hath done this most foul deed?" It were hard to tell, perhaps, what broke the head clerk's heavy slumber. It may have been Guly's wild cry, when he sank quivering to the floor, which reached his ear, even above the tempest-din. It may have been that instinct, which, sleeping or waking, teaches the heart to miss what it loves, or it may have been the natural effect of the drug, which had spent itself, that aroused him. He opened his eyes, turned heavily, and instantly became aware that the golden head no longer nestled on his bosom. Alarmed, he sprang to his feet in an instant, wide awake. He reached for the lamp, but found it gone; and, with nothing but a lighted match in his hand, he started out to look for Guly. The match went out before he was half way down to the store, but he went on, groping in the thick darkness, till suddenly his foot struck Guly's body; and with a moan of agony, he stooped and lifted him in his arms, and bore him hastily back to his bed, where he laid him down, in wild suspense, not knowing whether he was alive or dead. After several minutes he succeeded in finding a store-lamp; but the moment he lighted it the wind gushed through the open pane and blew it out, leaving him again in total darkness.