"O, you have come," said Arthur, as if he recognized persons by no means strangers to him. "Have you the particular subject which the doctor desired you to procure?"
"Jist that partikler subject," said one of the twain,—"an' a devil of a time we've had to git it! Fust we entered the vault at Greenwood, with a false key, and then opened the coffin, so as it'll never be known that it was opened at all. Closed the vault ag'in and got the body over the wall, and hid it in the bottom of the sleigh. Crossed the ferry at Brooklyn—went through the city, and then took the ferry for Hoboken,—same sleigh, and same subject in the bottom of it; an' druv here with a blast in our face, sharp as a dozen butcher knives."
"But if it had not a-been for the storm, we wouldn't a-got the body," interrupted the other.
"And here we air, and here it is, and that's enough. What shall we do with it?"
Arthur opened a small door near the bookcase, and a narrow stairway (leading up into the garret) was disclosed.
"You know the way," he said. "When you get up there place it on the table."
They obeyed without a word. Bearing their burden slowly through the narrow doorway, they disappeared, and the echo of their heavy boots was heard on the stairway. They were not long absent. After a few moments they again appeared, and the one who had acted as principal spokesman, held out his open palm toward Arthur,—
"Double allowance to-night, you know," he said,—"Doctor generally gives us from forty to sixty dollars a job, but this partikler case axes for ten gold pieces,—spread eagles, you know, wuth ten dollars apiece,—only a hundred dollars in all. Shell out!"
Arthur quietly placed ten gold pieces in the hands of the ruffian.—"The doctor left it for you. Now go."
And shuffling their heavy boots, they disappeared through the same door by which they had entered. Looking through the window after a few moments, he saw the sleigh moving noiselessly down the public road.