"My dear feller," said Dick, in a hurried tone, "I didn't mean to come back so soon again, but me and Tom is a-going to do a little business together down Southampton way--someot that he has been told of; and as we may be away a few days, I thought I'd better come this evenin' with a fresh supply. Here's plenty of grub, and rum, and bakker." "Well, this is a treat--to hear a friendly voice again so soon," said Bill;--"but why the devil don't you light the candle?" "I'm a-going to do it now," returned Dick; and he struck a lucifer-match as he spoke. "I thought I wouldn't show a light here sooner than was necessary; and we must not keep it burning too long; cos there may be chinks in them shutters, and I des say the blue-bottles is on the scent." "They come and searched the whole place this mornin'," said Bill: "but they didn't smell me though." "Then you're all safe now, my boy," cried Dick. "Here, look alive--take this basket, and pitch it down the stairs: it's well tied up, and chock full of cold meat and bread. Put them two bottles into your pocket: there--that's right. Now--do you want anythink else?" "Yes--a knife. I was forced to gnaw my food like a dog for want of one." "Here you are," said Dick; and, taking a knife from the secret cupboard between the windows, he handed it to his friend. "Now are you all right?" "Quite--that is, as right as a feller in my sitivation can be. You won't forget to come----" Bolter was standing within two or three steps from the top of the staircase; and the greater part of his body was consequently above the trap-door. He stopped suddenly short in the midst of his injunction to his companion, and staggered in such a way that he nearly lost his footing. His eye had caught sight of a human countenance peering from behind the half-open door of the room. "Damnation!" exclaimed the murderer: "I'm sold at last!"--and, rushing up the steps, he fell upon Dick Flairer with the fury of a tiger. At the same moment four or five officers darted into the room:--but they were too late to prevent another dreadful deed of blood. Bolter had plunged the knife which he held in his hand, into the heart of Dick Flairer, the burglar. The blow was given with fatal effect: the unfortunate wretch uttered a horrible cry, and fell at the feet of his assassin, stone dead. "Villain! what have you done?" ejaculated the serjeant who headed the little detachment of police. "I've drawn the claret of the rascal that nosed upon me," returned Bolter doggedly. "You were never more mistaken in your life," said the serjeant. "How--what do you mean? Wasn't it that scoundrel Dick that chirped against me?" "No--ten thousand times _No_!" cried the officer: "it was a prisoner in Newgate who split upon this hiding place. Somehow or another he heard of the reward offered to take you; and he told the governor the whole secret of the vault. Without knowing whether we should find you here or not, we came to search it."