mself upon it, tossed its contents right and left,
dived his hand under a flap, and held up a paper with a shout.

The Rector clutched it and hurried to the bureau to examine it by the
light of the candles he had taken from the chimney-piece and placed
there to assist his search.

"It's the licence!" he announced.

The two others pressed forward to assure themselves. He put the
paper into their hands and, stepping to the rifled valise, bent over
it, rubbing his chin meditatively.

"Now why," he asked, "would he be taking this particular paper with
him?"

"Because," Miss Belcher answered, with a glance at Mr. Rogers,
"he was a villain, but not a complete one. He was a weak fool--oh,
yes, and I hate him for it. But I won't believe but that he loathed
this business."

"I don't see how you get that out of his packing the paper, to carry
it off with him: though it's queer, I allow," said Mr. Rogers.

"It's plain enough to me. He meant, if he reached safety, to send
the thing back to you, Rector, and explain: he meant to set this
thing right. I'll go bail he abominated what he'd done, and
abominated the man who compelled him."

"He called it damnable," said I.

The words were scarcely out of my mouth when my ears and senses
stiffened at a sound from the night without, borne to us through the
open window--the hoot of an owl.

The others heard it too.

"There he is!" I whispered.

"Who?" asked Miss Belcher. But I nodded at Mr. Rogers.

"Letcher: that's his call."

Mr. Rogers glanced at the window, and grinned.

"Now here's a chance," he said softly.

"Eh?"

"He hasn't seen us. Stand close, everyone--oh, Moses, here's a
game!" He seemed to be considering.

"Let's have it, Jack," Miss Belcher urged. "Don't be keeping all the
fun to yourself."

"Whist a moment! I was thinking what to do with you three.
The door's in line with the window, and he'll spot anyone that
crosses the room."

I pointed to the window-skirting. "Not if one crossed close under
the window, sir--hands and knees."

"Good boy! Can you manage it, Lydia? Keep close by the wall, tuck
in your tuppeny and slip across."

She nodded. "And where after that?"

"Under the bed or behind the far curtain--which you will: and no
tricks, this time! The near curtain will do for the Rector. Is that
your hat, sir--there beside you, on the bureau?"

"No: I left mine in the next room. This must belong to Whitmore."

"Better still!