While he was filling his pockets with golden coin from this store, Blueskin had pulled the plate-chest from under the bed, and having forced it open, began filling a canvass bag with its contents,—silver coffee-pots, chocolate-dishes, waiters trays, tankards, goblets, and candlesticks. "Mother!" cried the son, "help!" "What is this?" shrieked Lady Trafford, raising herself on the couch, and extending her hands towards him. She went to the table under the end window at which she had been accustomed to work, and found it swept and garnished with full bottles of re-agents. Before her was a great Gothic portal. Through that she had to go. This was not the sort of confession which he had been expecting.
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