A small garden surrounded the old house. It was guarded by a wall
about eight feet high, the top of which bristled with bottle-glass.
The old lady and her domestics regarded this terrible-looking defence
with much satisfaction, believing in their innocence that no human
creature could succeed in getting over it. Boys, however, were their
only dread, and fruit their only care, when they looked complacently
at the bottle-glass on the wall, and, so far, they were right in
their feeling of security, for boys found the labour, risk, and
danger to be greater than the worth of the apples and pears.

But it was otherwise with men. Swankie and the Badger threw a piece
of thick matting on the wall; the former bent down, the latter
stepped upon his back, and thence upon the mat; then he hauled his
comrade up, and both leaped into the garden.

Advancing stealthily to the door, they tried it and found it locked.
The windows were all carefully bolted, and the shutters barred. This
they expected, but thought it as well to try each possible point of
entrance, in the hope of finding an unguarded spot before having
recourse to their tools. Such a point was soon found, in the shape of
a small window, opening into a sort of scullery at the back of the
house. It had been left open by accident. An entrance was easily
effected by the Badger, who was a small man, and who went through the
house with the silence of a cat, towards the front door. There were
two lobbies, an inner and an outer, separated from each other by a
glass door. Cautiously opening both doors, the Badger admitted his
comrade, and then they set to work.

A lantern, which could be uncovered or concealed in a moment, enabled
them to see their way.