thing would be
found but a few loose coins in his coat pocket. The fumbling at his door
continued, and presently it slowly opened, letting in a pale stream of
moonlight from a lattice window outside. He just saw the massive figure
of Tom o' the Gleam standing on the threshold, clad in shirt and
trousers only, and behind him there seemed to be the shadowy outline of
Matt Peke's broad shoulders and Bill Bush's bullet head. Uncertain what
to expect, he determined to show no sign of consciousness, and half
closing his eyes, he breathed heavily and regularly, feigning to be in a
sound slumber. But a cold chill ran through his veins as Tom o' the
Gleam slowly and cautiously approached the bed, holding something in his
right hand, while Matt Peke and Bill Bush tiptoed gently after him
half-way into the room.

"Poor old gaffer!" he heard Tom whisper--"Looks all ready laid out and
waiting for the winding!"

And the hand that held the something stole gently and ever gentlier
towards the pillow. By a supreme effort Helmsley kept quite still. How
he controlled his nerves he never knew, for to see through his almost
shut eyelids the dark herculean form of the gypsy bending over him with
the two other men behind, moved him to a horrible fear. Were they going
to murder him? If so, what for? To them he was but an old
tramp,--unless--unless somebody had tracked him from London!--unless
somebody knew who he really was, and had pointed him out as likely to
have money about him. These thoughts ran like lightning through his
brain, making his blood burn and his pulses, tingle almost to the verge
of a start and cry, when the creeping hand he dreaded quietly laid
something on his pillow and withdrew itself with delicate precaution.

"He'll be pleased when he wakes," said Tom o' the Gleam, in the mildest
of whispers, retreating softly from the bedside--"Won't he?"

"Ay, that he will!" responded Peke, under his breath;, "aint 'e sleepin'
sound?"

"Sound as a babe!"

Slowly and noiselessly they stepped backward,--slowly and noiselessly
they closed the door, and the faint echo of their stealthy footsteps
creeping away along the outer passage to another part of the house, was
hushed at last into silence. After a long pause of intense stillness,
some clock below stairs struck midnight with a mellow clang, and
Helmsley opening his eyes, lay waiting till the excited beating of his
heart subsided, and his quickened breath grew calm. Blaming him