"Now jest listen to me," ses the voice. "You do as yer told, or you'll be chopped into ten thousan' little bits. Set down on the stairs there, and shut yer eyes, and don't move or speak till you 'ear a whistle; it won't be a loud 'un, but loud enough for you to 'ear. Then you git up, and shut the street-door softly--you'll find it open--and lock it and put up the chain. Then go downstairs without speaking a word, and if yer aunt's awake and arsks yer wot's the matter, say nothink; if she's asleep, don't wake her. When she gits up in the morning don't say nothink to 'er, and don't answer no questions about us. You understand all that?" "Every word on it," I ses. "And yer'll do as yer ordered?" ses the voice. "Yes, I will," I ses. "Mind yer do," ses the voice, "or somethink orful 'll 'appen to yer. You'll be watched the 'ole day long, and if yer let on, look out for yerself. Now set yerself down on the stairs." I did, sir, and though I was froze almost to a stone, I never moved or spoke. It was that dark that I couldn't see a inch before my nose, even when I opened my eyes slyly, but I couldn't 'elp 'earing wot was going on. There was a creeping, and a bumping, and the sound of the street-door being unlocked and the chain being took down. Then everythink was quiet agin inside, and all I 'eerd was a policeman in the street outside, trying the doors as he passed on. When he'd got well out of the street, as near as I could tell, the street-door was opened without as much as a creak, and in another minute I 'eerd a low whistle. Then I got up; it was all a job, sir, 'cause I was cramped, but I managed it, and I crep' to the street-door, and shut it, and locked it, and put the chain up. I was glad enough to do it, I can tell yer, and I felt my way downstairs and got into bed. Aunt 'adn't as much as moved, and nobody knew nothink but me and the burgulers. That's all I know about last night.' "It was enough, in all conscience; a strange story indeed, and related by such a common little waif as Sophy. Our reporter had not interrupted her once, but allowed her to proceed, in her own quaint and original way, to the end. "'And you have told nobody but me, Sophy?' asked our reporter. "'It ain't crossed my lips till this minute,' replied Sophy. 'I don't know wot I might 'ave done if I 'adn't seed you this morning. You spoke civil and nice to me, and I took to yer in a minute. Yer might 'ave knocked me down with a feather when I 'eered arter you'd gone wot the burgulers' little game was, and it come to me in a jiffy that you'd like to know wot 'ad become of Mr. Felix's body. "I'll wait till I see 'im agin," ses I to myself, "and then I'll tell 'im all about it." If you 'adn't come to aunt's to-night I should 'ave come to you.'