"It's of no use, young fellows!" said Legge. "So you may as well open the door at once."
"Why," said the reverend gentleman to Jones, on hearing these words indistinctly, "that's Legge's voice! Has he turned housebreaker?—I know you, John Legge, sir!' he added aloud. "I know you, and you shall be punished."
"Do you hear!" cried Legge, who heard some one speaking, although he knew nothing about what was said. "Are you going to open the door now, or are we to burst it open?"
"Bless my life and soul!" cried the reverend gentleman, "where on earth is this key?"
At this moment Legge placed his foot near the lock, and as the door flew open without much effort, he seized the reverend gentleman roughly by the collar, while Judkins grasped Jones by the throat.
"So we've caught you at last," cried Legge, "have we? Come to the light, and let's have a look at you!"
"What do you mean?" cried the reverend gentleman. "Give me an account of this ruffianly conduct, sir—What do you mean?"
Legge, regardless of these expressions of insulted dignity, dragged him to the light: but the moment he recognised the reverend gentleman, he relaxed his hold, and said, "There is some mistake here."
"Some mistake, sir!" cried the reverend gentleman indignantly. "I demand to know the meaning of this outrage.—What right have you here?"
"I was sent for, and we thought, on hearing voices in the room, that we had caught those fellows who had been up to their tricks."
"Well, but—bless my life and soul, it's broad daylight! Why what is it o'clock?"
"Nearly seven."
"Nearly seven!—Jones, I'll never forgive you! Don't you think that you ought to be ashamed of your conduct?"
Jones didn't say whether he did or not. He, in fact, made no reply. Judkins had grasped his throat so firmly that, on being released, he was anxious, before he attempted to speak, to ascertain well if his swallow were right.
"There has been some mistake, I perceive," resumed the reverend gentleman, addressing Legge, with comparative calmness. "The fact is, I have been waiting here all night, with the view of catching those persons. But," he added, as Aunt Eleanor made her appearance, "all will now be explained."
Aunt Eleanor—who, on hearing of the discovery, at once suspected the cause, and had hurried on her things, in order to save the private feelings of her reverend friend from outrage—no sooner saw him standing in the hall, pale and shivering with cold, than she grasped his icy hand and said, "My dear sir! I fear that you omitted to keep the fire up. Mary, run and light one immediately in the breakfast-room: there's a good girl, be quick.—Mr. Legge, I feel obliged by your attention. My servants were not aware that Mr. Rouse had been kind enough to offer to sit up with the view of discovering these persons by whom I
