Mrs. Collum groaned, and looked at her daughter reproachfully. "I see by the _Weekly News_," said Jauncy, "you've had a burglary in your neighbourhood." Leander let the carving-knife slip. "A burglary! What! in my neighbourhood? When?" "Well, p'r'aps not a burglary; but a capture of two that were 'wanted' for it. It's all in to-day's _News_." "I--I haven't seen a paper for the last two days," said Leander, his heart beating with hope. "Tell us about it!" "Why, it isn't much to tell; but it seems that last Friday night, or early on Saturday morning, the constable on duty came upon two suspicious-looking chaps, propped up insensible against the railings in Queen Square, covered with blood, and unable to account for themselves. Whether they'd been trying to break in somewhere and been beaten off, or had quarrelled, or met with some accident, doesn't seem to be known for certain. But, anyway, they were arrested for loitering at night with housebreaking things about them; and, when they were got to the station, recognized as the men 'wanted' for shooting a policeman down at Camberwell some time back, and if it is proved against them they'll be hung, for certain." "What were they called? Did it say?" asked Leander, eagerly. "I forget one--something like Bradawl, I believe; the other had a lot of aliases, but he was best known as the 'Count,' from having lived a good deal abroad, and speaking broken English like a native." Leander's spirits rose, in spite of his present anxieties. He had been going in fear and dread of the revenge of these ruffians, and they were safely locked up; they could trouble him no more. Small wonder, then, that his security in this respect made him better able to cope with minor dangers; and Bella's animosity seemed lulled, too--at least, she had not opened her mouth, except for food, since she sat down. In his expansion, he gave himself the airs of a host. "I hope," he said, "I've served you all to your likings? Miss Parkinson, you're not getting on; allow me to offer you a little more pork." "Thank you, Mr. Tweddle," said the implacable Bella, "but I won't trouble you. I haven't an appetite to-day--like I had at those gardens." There was a challenge in this answer--not only to him, but to general curiosity--which, to her evident disappointment, was not taken up. Leander turned to Jauncy. "I--I suppose you had no trouble in finding your way here?" he said. "No," said Jauncy, "not more than usual; the streets were pretty full, and that makes it harder to get along." "We met such quantities of soldiers," put in Bella. "Do you remember those two soldiers at Rosherwich, Mr. Tweddle? How funny they did look, dancing; didn't they? But I suppose I mustn't say anything about the dancing here, must I?" "Since," said the poor badgered man, "you put it to me, Miss Parkinson, I must say that, considering the _day_, you know----"