It was the very thing!--and there on the walls hung a quantity of nets and cordage! But how to get in?
It was a sash-window, and of course swollen with the wet, therefore not to be opened; and there was not a square in it large enough to let him through.

He swam to the other side, and crept softly on to the roof, and over the ridge.

But a broken slate betrayed him.

The woman saw him, rushed to the fire-place, caught up the poker, and darted back to defend the window.
"Ye s' no come in here, I tell ye," she screeched, "an' my man stickin' i' yon boortree buss!" Gibbie advanced.

She made a blow at him with the poker.