"My dear girl," protested the horrified Mr. Travers, "you'll alarm the
neighbourhood."

"Just what I want to do," said the voice. "Keep still, mind."

Mr. Travers hesitated. The game was up, and it was clear that in any
case the stratagem of the ingenious Mr. Benn would have to be disclosed.

"Stop!" he said, earnestly. "Don't do anything rash. I'm not a burglar;
I'm doing this for a friend of yours--Mr. Benn."

"What?" said an amazed voice.

"True as I stand here," asseverated Mr. Travers. "Here, here's my
instructions. I'll put 'em under the door, and if you go to the back
window you'll see him in the garden waiting."

He rustled the paper under the door, and it was at once snatched from his
fingers. He regained an upright position and stood listening to the
startled and indignant exclamations of his gaoler as she read the
boatswain's permit:

"_This is to give notice that I, George Benn, being of sound mind
and body, have told Ned Travers to pretend to be a burglar at Mrs.
Waters's. He ain't a burglar, and I shall be outside all the time.
It's all above-board and ship-shape.

"(Signed) George Benn_"