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The Stories of the Three Burglars

Page 5

by Frank Richard Stockton

my father was a boat-builder. I was sent to school,and my mother has often told me that I was a good scholar. But she diedwhen I was about sixteen, and I am sure had this not happened I shouldnever have been even suspected of breaking the laws of my country. Notlong after her death my father appeared to lose interest in hisbusiness, and took to rowing about the river instead of building boatsfor other people to row. Very often he went out at night, and I used towonder why he should care to be on the water in the darkness, andsometimes in the rain. One evening at supper he said to me: 'Thomas, youought to know how to row in the dark as well as in the daytime. I amgoing up the river to-night, and you can come with me.'

  "It was about my ordinary bedtime when we took a boat with two pair ofoars, and we pulled up the river about three miles above the city."

  "What city?" I asked.

  "The city where I was born, sir," he said, "and the name of which I mustbe excused from mentioning for reasons connected with my only survivingparent. There were houses on the river bank, but they were not very neareach other. Some of them had lights in them, but most of them were dark,as it must have been after eleven o'clock. Before one of them my fatherstopped rowing for a moment and looked at it pretty hard. It seemed tobe all dark, but as we pulled on a little I saw a light in the back ofthe house.

  "My father said nothing, but we kept on, though pulling very easy for amile or two, and then we turned and floated down with the tide. 'Youmight as well rest, Thomas,' said he, 'for you have worked pretty hard.'

  "We floated slowly, for the tide was just beginning to turn, and when wegot near the house which I mentioned, I noticed that there was no lightin it. When we were about opposite to it father suddenly looked up andsaid, not speaking very loud, 'By George! if that isn't WilliamsonGreen's house. I wasn't thinking of it when we rowed up, and passed itwithout taking notice of it. I am sorry for that, for I wanted to seeWilliamson, and now I expect he has gone to bed.'

  "'Who is Mr. Green?' I asked.

  "'He is an old friend of mine,' said my father, 'and I haven't seen himfor some little while now. About four months ago he borrowed of me asextant, quadrant, and chronometer. They were instruments I took fromold Captain Barney in payment of some work I did for him. I wasn'tusin' them, and Williamson had bought a catboat and was studyingnavigation; but he has given up that fad now and has promised me overand over to send me back my instruments, but he has never done it. IfI'd thought of it I would have stopped and got 'em of him; but I didn'tthink, and now I expect he has gone to bed. However, I'll row in shoreand see; perhaps he's up yet.'

  "You see, ma'am," said the speaker to my wife, "I'm tellin' you allthese particulars because I am very anxious you should understandexactly how everything happened on this night, which was theturning-point of my life."

  "Very good," said Aunt Martha; "we want to hear all the particulars."

  "Well, then," continued the burglar, "we pulled up to a stone wall whichwas at the bottom of Green's place and made fast, and father he got outand went up to the house. After a good while he came back and said thathe was pretty sure Williamson Green had gone to bed, and as it wouldn'tdo to waken people up from their sleep to ask them for nauticalinstruments they had borrowed, he sat down for a minute on the top ofthe wall, and then he slapped his knee, not making much noise, though.

  "'By George!' he said, 'an idea has just struck me. I can play theprettiest trick on Williamson that ever was played on mortal man. Thoseinstruments are all in a box locked up, and I know just where he keepsit. I saw it not long ago, when I went to his house to talk about ayacht he wants built. They are on a table in the comer of his bedroom.He was taking me through the house to show me the improvements he hadmade, and he said to me:--

  "'"Martin, there's your instruments. I won't trouble you to take themwith you, because they're heavy and you're not going straight home, butI'll bring them to you day after to-morrow, when I shall be goin' yourway."

  "'Now, then,' said my father, 'the trick I'm thinkin' of playing onWilliamson is this: I'd like to take that box of instruments out of hisroom without his knowing it and carry them home, having the boat hereconvenient; and then in a day or two to write to him and tell him I musthave 'em, because I have a special use for 'em. Of course he'll beawfully cut up, not having them to send back; and when he comes down tomy place to talk about it, and after hearing all he has to say, I'llshow him the box. He'll be the most dumbfoundedest man in this State;and if I don't choose to tell him he'll never know to his dying day howI got that box. And if he lies awake at night, trying to think how I gotit, it will serve him right for keeping my property from me so long.'

  "'But, father,' said I, 'if the people have gone to bed you can't getinto the house to play him your trick.'

  "'That can be managed,' says he; 'I'm rather old for climbing myself,but I know a way by which you, Thomas, can get in easy enough. At theback of the house is a trellis with a grape-vine running over it, andthe top of it is just under one of the second-story windows. You canclimb up that trellis, Thomas, and lift up that window-sash verycarefully, so's not to make no noise, and get in. Then you'll be in aback room, with a door right in front of you which opens into Mr. andMrs. Green's bedroom. There's always a little night lamp burning in it,by which you can see to get about. In the corner, on your right as yougo into the room, is a table with my instrument-box standing on it. Thebox is pretty heavy, and there is a handle on top to carry it by. Youneedn't be afraid to go in, for by this time they are both sound asleep,and you can pick up the box and walk out as gingerly as a cat, having ofcourse taken your shoes off before you went in. Then you can hand thebox out the back window to me,--I can climb up high enough to reachit,--and you can scuttle down, and we'll be off, having the best rig onWilliamson Green that I ever heard of in my born days.'

  "I was a very active boy, used to climbing and all that sort of thing,and I had no doubt that I could easily get into the house; but I did notfancy my father's scheme.

  "'Suppose,' I said, 'that Mr. Williamson Green should wake up and seeme; what could I say? How could I explain my situation?'

  "'You needn't say anything,' said my father. 'If he wakes up blow outthe light and scoot. If you happen to have the box in your hand drop itout the back window and then slip down after it. He won't see us; butif he does he cannot catch us before we get to the boat; but if heshould, however, I'll have to explain the matter to him, and the jokewill be against me; but I shall get my instruments, which is the mainpoint, after all.'

  "I did not argue with my father, for he was a man who hated to bediffered with, and I agreed to help him carry out his little joke. Wetook off our shoes and walked quietly to the back of the house. Myfather stood below, and I climbed up the trellis under the back window,which he pointed out. The window-sash was down all but a little crack tolet in air, and I raised it so slowly and gently that I made no noise.Then without any trouble at all I got into the room.

  "I found myself in a moderate-sized chamber, into which a faint lightcame from a door opposite the window. Having been several hours out inthe night my eyes had become so accustomed to darkness that this lightwas comparatively strong and I could see everything.

  "Looking about me my eyes fell on a little bedstead, on which lay one ofthe most beautiful infants I ever beheld in my life. Its golden hairlay in ringlets upon the pillow. Its eyes were closed, but its softcheeks had in them a rosy tinge which almost equalled the colour of itsdainty little lips, slightly opened as it softly breathed and dreamed."At this point I saw my wife look quickly at the bedroom key she had inher hand. I knew she was thinking of George William.

  "I stood entranced," continued the burglar, "gazing upon this babe, forI was very fond of children; but I remembered that I must not wastetime, and stepped softly into the next room. There I beheld Mr. and Mrs.Williamson Green in bed, both fast asleep, the gentleman breathing alittle hard. In a corner, just where my father told me I should find it,stood the box upon the table.

  "But I could not immediately p
ick it up and depart. The beautiful roomin which I found myself was a revelation to me. Until that moment I hadnot known that I had tastes and sympathies of a higher order than mighthave been expected of the youthful son of a boat-builder. Those artisticfurnishings aroused within a love of the beautiful which I did not knowI possessed. The carpets, the walls, the pictures, the hangings in thewindows, the furniture, the ornaments,--everything, in fact, impressedme with such a delight that I did not wish to move or go

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