"So we all do at times."
"And sneaking about at night-time to find food."
"I think you managed to discover the right place for the grist," said the Resurrection Man, his cadaverous countenance wearing an ironical smile; "for you must recollect that I found you in the pantry."
"And the pantry's a good neighbourhood: it can't be far from where the plate's kept," observed the Cracksman.
"The plate is kept where no one can get at it," said Holford.
"How do you know that, youngster?"
"I overheard the servants count it, lock it up in a chest, and take it up to the apartments of—of—the Lord Steward, I think they call him."
"The deuce!" ejaculated the Cracksman, in a tone of deep disappointment.
"Now I tell you what it is, young fellow," said the Resurrection Man; "I think that for some reason or another you're deceiving us."
"You think so?" cried the lad. "And why should you fancy that I am deceiving you?"