"I'm blowed if she's not the very woman I saw in the dark," said one of the men.
"Split," said the lieutenant; "but be within sign."
The precaution was wise. In a few minutes Abram's face was peering out at the door, not this time looking for the moon—more probably for the enemies of her minions; and what immediately succeeded showed that he had got a glimpse of the men, for by-and-by the milk-maid came forth and proceeded along the square.
"Go and look into her pails," said the lieutenant to Reid, as he hastened up to him. "Jones and I will remain for a moment here."
Reid set off, and disappeared in the narrow passage leading to West Richmond Street; but he remained only a short time.
"Crumbie is yeld! there's not a drop of milk in her pitchers," said he, on his return; "and it's no other than Four-toes."
"Ah, we've been seen by Abram," said the officer; "and the pitchers are sent away empty, which otherwise would have contained something more valuable than milk. After her again, and track her. Jones and I will pay Abram a morning visit."
The man again set off; and the officer and Jones having hung about a few minutes till Abram came out to open the shutters and afford them light inside, they caught their opportunity, and, just as the Jew was taking down the shattered boards, they darted into the house. Abram was at their heels in a moment.
"Vat ish it, gentlemen?"
"A robbery of plate has been committed," said the officer at once; "and I am here, with your permission no doubt, to search this house."