Far into the night the judge sat smoking his short spectral pipe and drinking from an unsubstantial pewter pot, while he listened, shuddering, to the plans of the two burglars for the carrying out of their crime. With growing horror he gradually gleaned that the crib to be cracked was the house of his twin brother the Bishop of Hampstead, a lonely mansion near the village of Highgate. [Illustration] He watched the two malefactors as they cleaned and loaded their revolvers and made other preparations for the expedition. If that judge had done his duty, these two would still have been working out their time for the last crime but seven which they had committed; whereas Lord Pimblekin had let them off for that job with three months, and visited their subsequent deeds with penalties which decreased at a constant ratio, until for the latest--burglarious entry, removal of property valued at £500, wilful destruction of other property valued at £5,000, and maiming of two policemen and one footman--he had given them seven days. [Illustration] Now, it happened that there had been for the last year or so before the disappearance of Justice Pimblekin a disagreement of a somewhat painful nature between himself and his twin brother the Bishop of Hampstead. Both were old gentlemen of the utmost purity and philanthropy of principle, to whom the injuring of anyone--especially a brother--would have been an idea of the utmost horror. Besides this, their mutual affection was really very strong; but they had quarrelled about a matter of principle--a mere trifle: whether a piece of toast should be buttered on the right or left side; and their feelings had become temporarily embittered. [Illustration] This painful circumstance naturally increased the horror of the unhappy spectre at the present plans of the burglars, and he made the wildest efforts to go to his brother and warn him; but he was glued to the table. Just as the clocks were striking 2 a.m., however, he felt that he could move; and swiftly gliding away from the attic, he hurried down into the street and strained every nerve to direct his course towards Highgate. But every effort was vain; he was drawn, against his will, to a house where an habitual criminal whom his lordship had let loose upon society was engaged in preparing poisoned food for a family. Having assisted in the mixing of the poison, he passed on and found himself in a room with a swindling company-director whom he had let off with six months instead of fifty years; and here he assisted in the drawing up of a new prospectus specially designed for the benefit of the widow and the fatherless who might happen to have a mite or two to be relieved of. By this time it was morning; and the judge's ghost found himself in a shed where that diseased-meat purveyor whom he had alluded to was busy packing for the market; and the ghost helped with advice.