thors of this report. Come, cheer up! All
will be discovered, and all will be well.

[_Exeunt ambo; Old Bargrove leading off and caressing Mrs Bargrove._

_Act III. Scene I._

_A wood.--Enter Bill and Dick._

_Dick._ Well, Bill, what do ye say to it--will it do?

_Bill._ Can't tell--been thinking on it all night. Don't much like the
consarn. There be too many on 'en.

_Dick._ Yes, and there be a mortal lot of plate, Bill, all kept in the
butler's pantry. I met a servant at a public-house, who is going away, a
sea chap, drinking malt like a fish, and I wormed all out of him. I
think it be an easy job. The butler be fat and pursey. The Admiral be
old and toothless.

_Bill._ That's all right, so far, Dick; but then there be the two young
officers just come down.

_Dick._ Yes, but I finds that they sleep quite t'other end of the house
altogether; and d'ye see, Bill, the plate be only left out because they
be come to the Hall. When they're off, the best of the pewter will be
all locked up again; so, it's no use to wait till they start off. Come,
what d'ye say, Bill? Jack and Nim be both of my mind. I see'd them this
morning.

_Bill._ (_thoughtfully_). It be hanging matter, Dick.

_Dick._ Why, yes--so it be, if so be as we be found out first, and
caught arterwards--and then go to 'sizes--and then a true bill be
given--and then we be found guilty, and arter all, gets no reprieve; but
there be as many a slip between the noose and the neck, as there be
'tween the cup and the lip.

_Bill._ Well, Dick, I tell ye what, I've no objection to stand outside,
and help carry off.

_Dick._ That be all we wants. One must look to the nag and cart, and
that one must be you. Gie's your hand on it. [_They shake hands._

_Bill._ But I say, Dick, does Nelly know the business in hand?

_Dick._ Not yet.

_Bill._ I've an idea she won't allow it. I heard her talk summit about
conscience--or the like of it.

_Dick._ Talk about fiddlesticks. Show her the pewter and she'll snap her
fingers. Here she comes. I'll let her into the gammon.

_Enter Nelly._

_Nelly._ Well, lads; what's in the wind?

_Dick._ Summit worth sneezing at, Nell. We are up to a rig to-night. Got
a bit of a frolic for pewter.

_Nelly._ Aye, boys, where?

_Dick._ At the Hall here.

_Nelly._ It won't do.

_Dick._ Yes, but it will though.

_Nelly._ Yes it will do for you (_pointing to her neck_). I know the
Hall well. It must not be thought of.