“I mustn’t forget the jemmy,” grunted Mr. Fibbes.
“The jemmy!” replied Tom, in a tone of injured feeling; “what’s the use of the jemmy? This ain’t a rough job, Mr. Fibbes; you seem to take no pride in your profession! No, no; you just put the centre-bit in your coat-pocket for a precaution, and leave the rest to me. The back-scullery’s our place; it’s got a regular sash window, and opens with a common hasp; there’s a shutter, too, but I see a cobweb across it when I was there, and I think maybe they sometimes forget to fasten it. So you and me we alights at the station as though to walk into Bubbleton, then we come quietly up to the house, takes a bit of brown paper and treacle, and so breaks a pane in that scullery window without a chink of noise, then in goes a hand to unhasp it, and you and me, Mr. Fibbes, we walks in without a hinvitation. Now, look you here,” and Tom produced his chart of the interior, “we goes quietly into the butler’s room—he’s safe to be at Bubbleton, because it’s a theatre night—we takes a piece out of the cupboard with a centre-bit—none of your noisy jemmies—and we stows away the plate in the blue bag; then we creeps along the passage, and so up the back-stairs there” (pointing to the plan with his finger) “into the drawing-room; and here, Mr. Fibbes, I shall want your assistance, in case of haccidents. Ye see one of the ladies she sleeps above the drawing-room, and ladies is mostly light sleepers. Now, from what I’ve heard tell of this one—the governess she was—she’s as likely as not to come down if she hears any disturbance. She might know me, for she’s seen me along of my missus in Grosvenor Square. If she should walk in—. Take another drain, Mr. Fibbes—what’s that noise?” broke off Tom, abruptly, his white face beaded with perspiration, and his lip working in guilty trepidation.
“Noise? there’s no noise,” replied his confederate, looking doggedly up to him, though a strange light shone too in his bloodshot eyes; “if she should walk in, what then?”
“Why, run the long knife into her,” hissed out the less daring villain; “it makes no noise, and she’ll tell no tales.”
“Share and share alike, and it’s a bargain,” said Mr. Fibbes, dashing his great hand heavily down on the table. “D—n me, Tom, you’re a deep ’un; you put me in front in that last job, and so help me I didn’t clear five pounds. I’ll have none of these games this turn, and if I have to whip out the ‘bread-winner,’ I’ll be allowed something handsome over and above, see if I won’t.”
“Of course, Mr. Fibbes,” replied Tom, “honour amongst gentlemen. You understand the plan now, I think, or would you like me to go over it once more?”
“Bother the plan,” remarked Mr. Fibbes, who was a man of action rather than a man of science; “let’s have another quartern and be off—why, it’s getting dark now.”
“Easy,” said Tom, “we’ll just call at my place for the instruments, and so walk on to the station. It’s a nice fresh night for a jaunt into the country; but what a thing it is when gentlemen can combine business with pleasure!”
Mr. Fibbes grunted a hoarse laugh of approbation, and, having finished their gin, these two worthy members of society walked off, arm-in-arm, on their nefarious expedition. It is needless to say that Newton-Hollows was the house for which they were bound. General Bounce and his unconscious family, resting peacefully and securely as usual, were to be robbed, and, if any resistance arose, were to be murdered before daylight, and this because Tom Blacke, being, as he said, connected with them by marriage, and having received many acts of kindness from the warm-hearted old General, had obtained a sufficient knowledge of the inside of his dwelling and the habits of his household to make a descent upon his property with every prospect of success. After a vehement discussion with Mr. Fibbes, who was extremely anxious to travel first class, and whose aristocratic prejudices were so shocked when he found his confederate would by no means consent to this imprudent arrangement, that he nearly threw up the job altogether, the worthy couple stowed themselves away in a roomy compartment of the second class, and were soon steaming along from the lights of London, into the dark, broken masses of the cool, fresh country.