"Indeed, indeed," replied an eager and earnest voice, which Clarence
recognized as Talbot's, "this is all the money I have in the house,--
the plate is above,--my servant has the key,--take it,--take all,--but
save his life and mine."

"None of your gammon," said another and rougher voice than that of the
first speaker: "we know you have more blunt than this,--a paltry sum
of fifty pounds, indeed!"

"Hold!" cried the other ruffian, "here is a picture set with diamonds,
that will do, Ben. Let go the old man."

Clarence was now just at hand, and probably from a sudden change in
the position of the dark lantern within, a light abruptly broke from
beneath the door and streamed along the passage.

"No, no, no!" cried the old man, in a loud yet tremulous voice,--"no,
not that, anything else, but I will defend that with my life."

"Ben, my lad," said the ruffian, "twist the old fool's neck we have no
more time to lose."

At that very moment the door was flung violently open, and Clarence
Linden stood within three paces of the reprobates and their prey. The
taller villain had a miniature in his hand, and the old man clung to
his legs with a convulsive but impotent clasp; the other fellow had
already his gripe upon Talbot's neck, and his right hand grasped a
long case-knife.

With a fierce and flashing eye, and a cheek deadly pale with internal