"Ready, lads?
Quick march, then!" We took the path up the valley bottom, and across a grassy shoulder of the park to a small gate in the ring-fence.

Beyond this gate a lane, or cart-road, dipped steeply downhill to the right; and following it, we came on a high stone wall overtopped by trees.
"Here's your post, Hodgson," whispered Mr.Rogers, after waiting for the constables to come up.

"Jim will take the back of the house: and understand that no one is to enter or leave.

If anyone attempts it, signal to me: one whistle from you, Hodgson, and two from Jim.
Off you go, my lad! The signal's the same if I want you--one whistle or two, as the case may be." The constable he called Jim crept away in the darkness, while Mr.
Rogers found and cautiously opened a wicket-gate leading to a courtlage, across which a solitary window shone on the ground-floor of a house lifting its gables and heavy chimneys against a sky only less black than itself.
"Gad!" said Mr.Rogers softly, "I wonder what Whitmore's doing?
The fun would be, now, to find one of these windows unfastened, and slip in upon him without announcing ourselves.

'Twouldn't be the thing, though, for a Justice of the Peace, let alone Mr.Doidge here.
No: we'll have to do it in order and knock.