"What--what's the matter?" gasped the boatswain.

The widow struggled in his arms. "A burglar," she said, in a tense
whisper. "But it's all right; I've killed him."

"Kill--" stuttered the other. "Kill----_Killed him?_"

Mrs. Waters nodded and released herself, "First shot," she said, with a
satisfied air.

The boatswain wrung his hands. "Good heavens!" he said, moving slowly
towards the door. "Poor fellow!"

"Come back," said the widow, tugging at his coat.

"I was--was going to see--whether I could do anything for 'im," quavered
the boatswain. "Poor fellow!"

"You stay where you are," commanded Mrs. Waters. "I don't want any
witnesses. I don't want this house to have a bad name. I'm going to
keep it quiet."

"Quiet?" said the shaking boatswain. "How?"

"First thing to do," said the widow, thoughtfully, "is to get rid of the
body. I'll bury him in the garden, I think. There's a very good bit of
ground behind those potatoes. You'll find the spade in the tool-house."

The horrified Mr. Benn stood stock-still regarding her.