"The girl was right," he said, with an air of disappointment. "She's got 'em all on."
"Then it's no use trying it to-night," said the curate. "Perhaps a little later? It must be darkish for some time."
Ted shook his head again.
"No use! Too risky. It will be hours before they all go to bed and the house is quiet; the servants always keep it up after a big affair like this; some of 'em won't go to bed at all, perhaps. Besides, I was spotted just now."
The Parson, as he was called by the burgling fraternity, of which he and Ted were distinguished members, swore under his breath.
"How was that?" he asked.
"I was looking in at one of the windows of the servants' quarters, getting a word or two with the girl, when a couple of the swells came along. They saw me, and mistook me for some one by the name of Dick, and called to me. I walked off as quickly as I could, and I swear they didn't see my face, neither then nor just now, when, as luck would have it, they caught sight of me going out of the gates. They went into the lodge with the young fellow they'd mistaken me for."
The Parson swore again.
"What's to be done? Did you see the things?"
Ted nodded emphatically.