at the cook and housemaid, "got softly out of bed, drew on a pair of—"
"Ladies present, Mr. Giles," murmured the tinker.
"—Of shoes, sir," said Giles, turning upon him, and laying great emphasis on the word, seized the loaded pistol that always goes up stairs with the plate-basket, and walked on tiptoes to his room. 'Brittles,' I says, when I had woke him, 'don't be frightened!'"
"So you did," observed Brittles, in a low voice.
"'We're dead men, I think, Brittles, I says,'" continued Giles, "'but don't be under any alarm.'"
"Was he frightened?" asked the cook.
"Not a bit of it," replied Mr. Giles. "'He was as firm—ah! pretty near as firm as I was."
"I should have died at once, I'm sure if it had been me," observed the housemaid.
"You're a woman," retorted Brittles, plucking up a little.
