"Read John Jeffreys' note," said Old Death coolly, as he produced the letter from the pocket of his capacious old grey surtout coat.
Tim the Snammer, and Josh Pedler, accordingly read the contents of the paper, which ran as follow:—
"This cums to tel you, sir, that Master resceved a chek for about twelve undred pouns yesterday from Sir enry courtenee, a barrow-night, and that master got it keshed this mornin at the benk, wich I no becos I had to go with him in the gigg to the benk, and I see him cum out of the benk a-countin the notes, and I no he will pay it all away in 2 or 3 days to his bilders and arkitecks and carpinters at norwood. anny thing you leeve for mee in a broun paper parsel at the ushoul crib will reech mee. Yure fatheful servant,
"J. J."
"Satisfactory enow," exclaimed Tim the Snammer, with an appealing glance to his comrade, who nodded his head approvingly. "Well," continued the thief, "give us the necessary description of the place; and we'll be off at once. It's fortnit that we've got our tools about us."
"Which you have used against my miserable lodging," observed Old Death, with a grim smile. "However, I would rather you'd have introduced yourselves in that way, than not come at all; for I should have let this matter," he added, pointing to Jeffreys' note, which now lay on the table, "go by without attending to it. So it's lucky for us all that you did make your appearance; and if you serve me well in this case, you shall not want employment of my finding."
"Good again, old tulip," said Tim the Snammer; "and now tell us where this Mr. Torrings lives—or whatever his name is—and we will lose no time."
Old Death gave the necessary explanation; and the two men took their departure, having first acquainted their employer with the condition in which they had left the old woman down stairs—a piece of information which made him hasten to her rescue.