Had the man been to the police station and returned with the constables
so quickly? This was Harold's first thought, but he dismissed it
as soon as formed. Peter had been barely half an hour absent, and
the station was several miles off. Where had he been, then, and
with whom was he conversing? Harold bent his head close to the
broken pane and listened.

"Are ye sure sartin that the young woman seen us?" inquired a rough
voice--not Peter's--"because this is goin' to be an ugly job, an'
there's no call for us to tackle it widout needcessity?"

"Sartin as stalks," whispered the old servant. "She was all of a
thrimble, as if she'd met a sperrit an' all the words she had was
'I seen it--I seen it all,' an' she yowlin' like a banshee."

"It's quare we didn't take notice to her, for she must ha' been
powerful close to see us such a night. I thought I heerd the horn,
too, an' I lavin' the yard."

She wint out to blow it," whispered Peter. "Most like it was stuck
in the shrubbery she was."

"Come on thin," growled the other; "it's got to be done, an' the
byes is all here. Ye left the little dure beyant on the latch?"

"I did that," responded old Peter; and then a low, soft whistle
sounded in the darkness. It was a signal.

Rapidly but cautiously Harold Hayes left the window and stole