It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. The robbers proceeded singly, and kept on the grass skirting the road, so that no noise was made by their horses' feet.
As they neared the house, Jack Sheppard, who led the way, halted and addressed his companion in a low voice:—
“I don't half like this job, Blueskin,” he said; “it always went against the grain. But, since I've seen the friend and companion of my childhood, Thames Darrell, I've no heart for it. Shall we turn back?”
“And disappoint Mr. Wild, Captain?” remonstrated the other, in a deferential tone. “You know this is a pet project. It might be dangerous to thwart him.”
“Pish!” cried Jack: “I don't value his anger a straw. All our fraternity are afraid of him; but I laugh at his threats. He daren't quarrel with me: and if he does, let him look to himself. I've my own reasons for disliking this job.”
“Well, you know I always act under your orders, Captain,” returned Blueskin; “and if you give the word to retreat, I shall obey, of course: but I know what Edgeworth Bess will say when we go home empty-handed.”
“Why what will she say?” inquired Sheppard.
“That we were afraid,” replied the other; “but never mind her.”
“Ay; but I do mind her,” cried Jack upon whom his comrade's observation had produced the desired effect. “We'll do it.”
“That's right, Captain,” rejoined Blueskin. “You pledged yourself to Mr. Wild—”