“This, I fear, is getting rather a serious affair,” said Vanston, in a low voice to Chevydale—­“I see how the tide is likely to turn.”

Chevydale merely nodded, as if he also comprehended it.  “You were about to add some other name?” said he; “in the mean time compose yourself and proceed.”

Hycy Burke’s face at this moment had become white as a sheet; in fact, to any one of common penetration, guilt and a dread of the coming disclosure were legible in every lineament of it.

“Who was the other person you were about to mention?” asked Vanston.

“His own son, sir, Mr. Hycy Burke, there.”

“Ha!” exclaimed Chevydale; “Mr. Hycy Burke, do you say?  Mr. Burke,” he added, addressing that gentleman, “how is this?  Here is a grave and serious charge against you.  What have you to say to it?”

“That it would be both grave and serious,” replied Hycy, “if it possessed but one simple element, without which all evidence is valueless—­I mean truth.  All I can say is, that she might just as well name either of yourselves, gentlemen, as me.”

“How do you know that Hogan committed the robbery?” asked Hycy.

“Simply bekaise I seen him.  He broke open the big chest above stairs.”

“How did you see him?” asked Vanston.

“Through a hole in the partition,” she replied, “where a knot of the deal boards had come out.  I slep’, plaise your honor, in a little closet off o’ the room the money was in.”

“Is it true that she slept there, Mr. Burke?” asked Vanston of the old man.

“It is thrue, sir, God help me; that at all events is thrue.”

“Well, proceed,” said Chevydale.

“I then throw my gown about my shoulders; but in risin’ from my bed it creaked a little, an’ Bat Hogan, who had jest let down the lid of the chest aisily when he hard the noise, blew out the bit of candle that he had in his hand, and picked his way down stairs as aisily as he could.  I folloyed him on my tippy-toes, an’ when he came opposite the door of the room where the masther and misthress sleep, the door opened, an’ the mistress wid a candle in her hand met him full—­but in the teeth.  I was above upon the stairs at the time, but from the way an’ the place she stood in, the light didn’t rache me, so that I could see them widout bein’ seen myself.  Well, when the mistress met him she was goin’ to bawl out wid terror, an’ would, too, only that Masther Hycy flew to her, put his hand on her mouth, an’ whispered something in her ear.  He then went over to Bat, and got a large shafe of bank-notes from him, an’ motioned him to be off wid himself, an’ that he’d see him to-morrow.  Bat went down in the dark, an’ Hycy an’ his mother had some conversation in a low voice on the lobby.  She seemed angry, an’ he was speakin’ soft an’ strivin’ to put her into good humor again.  I then dipt back to bed, but the never a wink could I get till mornin’; an’ when I went down, the first thing I saw was Bat Hogan’s shoes.  It was hardly light at the time; but at any rate I hid them where they couldn’t be got, an’ it was well I did, for the first thing I saw was Bat himself peering about the street and yard, like a man that was looking for something that he had lost.”