Were they going to murder him?
If so, what for?
To them he was but an old tramp,--unless--unless somebody had tracked him from London!--unless somebody knew who he really was, and had pointed him out as likely to have money about him.

These thoughts ran like lightning through his brain, making his blood burn and his pulses, tingle almost to the verge of a start and cry, when the creeping hand he dreaded quietly laid something on his pillow and withdrew itself with delicate precaution.
"He'll be pleased when he wakes," said Tom o' the Gleam, in the mildest of whispers, retreating softly from the bedside--"Won't he ?" "Ay, that he will!" responded Peke, under his breath;, "aint 'e sleepin' sound ?" "Sound as a babe!" Slowly and noiselessly they stepped backward,--slowly and noiselessly they closed the door, and the faint echo of their stealthy footsteps creeping away along the outer passage to another part of the house, was hushed at last into silence.

After a long pause of intense stillness, some clock below stairs struck midnight with a mellow clang, and Helmsley opening his eyes, lay waiting till the excited beating of his heart subsided, and his quickened breath grew calm.

Blaming himself for his nervous terrors, he presently rose from his bed, and struck a match from the box which Miss Tranter had thoughtfully left beside him, and lit his candle.

Something had been placed on his pillow, and curiosity moved him to examine it.