Slowly and with downcast eyes the ghost crept out through the bookcase and rejoined Jemmy and Bill to assist in disposing of the swag. They lavished upon him terms of endearment, and insisted on treating him at every public-house in the neighbourhood: and the sight of that respectably-dressed old gentleman with kid gloves and a short clay pipe surprised the pot-boys. The ghost could not consume the liquor, being too unsubstantial. At short intervals he would retire into a dark corner to beat his breast in remorse and anguish. Presently Jemmy and Bill, who had been whispering earnestly together, turned respectfully to the spectre; they appeared very nervous, as though afraid to broach some delicate matter which was on their minds. "Beg parding, boss--I mean my lordship"--began Jemmy, hesitatingly, and fidgeting from one foot to the other; "but we was a-going to ask yer if as how you'd 'ave enny objection----" "Yus," chimed in Bill. "If ye'd take the 'uff if so be as we wos to----" "Dry up, you, Bill," said Jemmy. "It's just this 'ere, guvnor. We wos a-thinkin' of crackin' another crib next week as yer might ha' heered ov in yer time--well, to bust out with it straight and candid, it's yer own crib as used to be w'en yer wos alive; but, yer see, bein' as how ye're dead now and it ain't o' no more good to yer--there's a nice little lot of old plate as you've got there as we sho'd be proud to 'andle. The on'y thing is----" "Yus, that's w'ere it is," interrupted Bill. "The o'ny thing is as we might 'ave to knock yer missis--axin' pardon; 'er ladyship--on the 'ed, bein' a light sleeper, her maid ses, and a bit ov a spitfire, d'ye see?" The judge's ghost attempted to give vent to a cry of indignant horror and forbid the attempt in the most unequivocal way. He struggled to rush forth and inform the police and the community; but he heard himself chuckle and felt himself slap the two burglars on the back, and knew that he was saying to them: "Heave ahead, my bloaters! I owe the old Dutch clock one for the naggings she's treated me to. I'm on this job, that's what I am!" And then he puffed away at his short clay, and kept on chuckling until he felt quite sick with misery. "He's the right sort, so he is," said Bill, "and no two ways abaat it." "Right yer are," said Jemmy. "'E's the sort o' pal for me, and no error." Once more the judge's ghost wandered about from one malefactor to another, and from one victim to another, always assisting the malefactors and jeering the victims, and always welcome as a friend by the former, and cursed as an enemy by the latter. He had no rest night or day; he was constantly racked and harrowed by some new shock of grief or repugnance.