The servant girl now brought to the window a pail of dirty water, which she threw over the vanquished burglar.
This bad the effect of restoring him to consciousness. He made an effort to rise, but he was so dizzy, so utterly prostrated, that he was almost helpless for a time.
The mistress and her maid had the prudence not to sally forth till assistance had arrived, for they were by no means certain as to the real state of the enemy. He might, after all, only be shamming, and it would not be advisable to risk an engagement in the open field.
They had recourse, therefore, to “sound the alarm,” by repeated screams and cries for assistance.
Much to their delight, a constable opened the garden gate, and flashed his bull’s-eye in all directions.
By the light of his lantern he discovered Peace stretched on the garden walk.
“Now, then, get up, man,” said the constable to Peace.
“I can’t,” exclaimed the burglar. “I’m all but killed by those she dragons.”
“You can’t lie here all night. Get up, I say. What have you been doing?”
“Oh, don’t ask me,” said Peace, in a whining hypocritical voice. “Those infamous women!”