Old Death regaled his two visitors each with a wine glass full of brandy, and then took a similar quantity himself.
"Yes," he said, continuing the discourse: "it is for to-night—and a good thing may be made of it, if you're staunch and resolute. In fact, I wanted to meet with a couple of such active fellows as you are, for I have been sadly used lately—in more ways than one."
"Well, what is it?" demanded Tim the Snammer. "You know that we're the lads to do any thing it ought to be done; and I don't see the use of wasting time, if the business is really for to-night."
"I have had positive information," continued Old Death, his dark eyes gleaming snake-like beneath the shaggy brows that overhung them, "that a gentleman, who lives in a lonely house not many miles off, this morning received a considerable sum of money at a banker's, on a cheque which he get cashed there; and in a few days he will pay it all away to his creditors—for he has been building a great number of houses at Norwood; and so I think," added Bones, with a horrible chuckle, "that it would be just as well to anticipate him."
"And can you rely on this information?" asked Tim the Snammer. "Come—let us know all the particklers."
"Two or three days ago he took into his service a man named John Jeffreys—a groom who was lately in the household of a certain Sir Christopher Blunt," said Old Death; "and this person sells his secrets to those who pay him best."
"In plain terms he's in your pay," exclaimed Josh Pedler. "Well—that's all right. What next?"
"Nothing more than that if you like to crack that crib, you can do it to-night; and I'll smash the notes, which will be of no use to you till they're melted into gold," answered Old Death; thereby intimating to them, first that he should take no active part in the business, and secondly that it would not be worth their while to cheat him of his share of the plunder, inasmuch as they were totally dependent on him for rendering the hoped-for booty at all available.
Tim the Snammer and Josh Pedler consulted together for a few moments in low whispers.
"But how do we know," said the former, suddenly turning round upon Old Death, "that this isn't all a cursed plant to get us out of the house here—or may be to inveigle us into some infernal trap—eh? Answer us that."