"Before we leave here," said Old Death, "remember what you are to do. Jacob and you, Toby, will put on your masks, rush in, shut the door, and make the old widow secure. Then you, Jacob, will come out and fetch me. It won't do for the woman to see me at all, because I'm so tall that if she described me to Tom Rain when he comes back, he would know who it was directly; but as there's nothing particular about either of you, he can't make you out from description."
"We'll take care, Mr. Bunce, how the thing is managed," said Toby.
The trio then quitted the public-house; and, while Toby and Jacob crossed to the other side of the street, Old Death walked a little way on.
The coast was quite clear, and a profound silence reigned throughout the neighbourhood.
Toby Bunce and the lad stopped at the door of the widow's house, slipped on their black masks, and knocked. In a few moments the door was opened by the widow herself. Quick as lightning, the candle was knocked from her hand, and the scream that half-burst from her lips was arrested by a large plaster which Toby instantaneously clapped upon her mouth. The poor woman fainted through excess of terror, and was borne into the nearest room, where Jacob hastened to strike a light.
Having succeeded thus far, Toby remained in charge of the landlady, while Jacob hastened to fetch Old Death.
In a few moments the lad returned with that individual; and the front-door was again carefully closed.
The widow continued in a swoon; and Toby did not give himself any trouble to recover her.
"Do you remain here," said Old Death, addressing himself to his myrmidon Bunce; "and if the woman revives and attempts to struggle or any nonsense of that kind, give her a knock on the head just to quiet her—but no more."
"All right," returned Toby, rejoiced to find that he had only a female to deal with.