“The linkboy ran away, leaving his torch still burning on the ground. The fellow who had knocked it now joined him that was grappling with his lordship. All this the servant saw, and then he was felled to the earth, where he lay stunned for a little while. During that time, it must have been, the footpads struck my lord dead with a bludgeon.” Thornby gave a shiver of discomfort. “When the servant came to,” the narrator continued, “he found that the footpads had gone; and two gentlemen, who had left the same gaming-house soon after his master, were now examining him to see if he was alive, by the light of the torch, which one of them had picked up. They had seen the scuffle as they were coming from the gaming-house, and had run up with their swords drawn, making such a noise that maybe the footpads had imagined them to be a large party. In any case, the footpads had taken to their heels. The two gentlemen informed the servant they believed his master to be dead. He joined them in a further examination, and found that his lordship’s money was gone.” “Ay, to be sure,” said Thornby. “The rascals got the money before they ran away.” “A very natural supposition, sir,—in fact, the only probable one. The servant came to that at once, and the world accepted it afterwards,—that the footpads had succeeded in getting the money before the two gentlemen arrived. But, sir, do you know that in this world ’tis just as often that the probable supposition isn’t the true one?” “What d’ye mean?” “Why, sir, the truth is, as I’m a living man,—and this is entirely between us for the present, sir,—’tis a secret I’ve kept for a long time, and if I didn’t feel I could rely on you as a gentleman with a particular interest in Mr. Foxwell—” “Certainly you can rely on me,—no fears on that score. But what the deuce has this to do with Foxwell? Come, out with it, man! I can keep a secret as well as the best.” “Well, sir, thanking you kindly for your assurance, the truth is, the footpads _hadn’t_ got the money before they ran away. At least they hadn’t got all of it, or so much but that a considerable amount was left.” “How, then, if the servant found it was all gone?” “Simply that those two gentlemen, having suffered heavy losses that night, being in all likelihood at their wits’ end for a further supply of the needful, and finding his lordship’s pockets lined with the same, had succumbed to the temptation of an instant, and transferred the shiners from his pockets to their own while the servant still lay senseless on the ground.” “The devil you say?” exclaimed the Squire. “A shocking thing, sir, no doubt,—robbery of the dead. It has a singularly bad sound when put that way, for some reason or other, has it not? So _ungentlemanly_ a crime, if I may presume to offer an opinion, sir.” “A devilish risky one, too, I should say.”