"Soon go, man! Who's to go and play a duet with a policeman keeping his eye upon you all the time? I couldn't do it, Smithson." "Let's walk on a little farther, sir, and then turn back." "No; we must give it up for to-night. How terribly strange things are turning up! And, besides, it's getting so late." They walked on a quarter of a mile and then turned back, hardly a word being said, the lieutenant filling up the time by uttering the peculiar sound expressed by the word _tut_ repeated rapidly. "Shall I go on first, sir, and see if the policeman is there?" said Dick at last. "No, no; it would look so suspicious. He might take us for bad characters. We must walk by together." "Very well, sir," replied Dick; and they strolled slowly along the now deserted road, with the lights in the upper windows of the houses gradually dying out one by one, as if to prove that the lieutenant's words about being late were correct. To their great satisfaction, though, the lights were still plainly to be seen in the last house but one of those standing back, and as they passed the swing gates no policeman was visible. But they walked on back towards the town for another hundred yards, and then stopped. "Coast quite clear, sir," said Dick. "Think so, Smithson? Is it safe?" "The constable has evidently gone on his round." "But he said something about watching." "Yes, sir; but he would not stop in one place. I'd venture, if I were you." "Then we will, Smithson. Come along back at once, and let's get it over. The plan of attack is to go quickly through the gate, pass on to the grass, and then right up to the house--on the lawn, of course. Then one, two, three, four, and start at once." "Yes, sir; I understand. I'll count four in a whisper, and away we go." "There, then, not a word till I tap your arm with my flute, which you can give me as soon as we have got on to the lawn." The entrance was reached again, but there was no policeman in the dark nook, and, raising the latch, the lieutenant swung open the gate, and they passed through, the latch falling back into its place with a faint click which sounded terribly loud, and made them pause for a moment or two. "Come along," whispered the lieutenant; "on to the grass." "What's your little game?" It was a gruff whisper from out of a clump of laurustinus, and, as the stalwart figure of the policeman moved up in the darkness, the lieutenant turned to flee, but stopped short on Dick grasping his arm. "There's nothing wrong, constable!" said Dick, quickly. "No; and I don't mean for there to be! Just consider yourselves ketched! No gammon, or I whistles, and there'll be dozens of our chaps here in no time; and, if they comes and finds you're nasty, there won't be no mercy--and so I tell yer!" "Don't be absurd," said Dick, thinking it better to out with the truth; "we've only come to play a tune or two in front of the house." "Yes, yes!" said the lieutenant, feebly.