Suddenly he became aware of two green eyes staring at him in the darkness.  The cat was in too!  Crumbs!  The cat was in too!  The cat, recognising its inveterate enemy, set up a vindictive wail.  William grew cold with fright.  The rotten old cat was going to give the show away!

“Here, Pussy!  Good ole Pussy!” he whispered hoarsely.  “Nice ole Pussy!  Good ole Pussy!”

The cat gazed at him in surprise.  This form of address from William was unusual.

“Good ole Pussy!” went on William feverishly.  “Shut up, then.  Here’s some nice blanc-mange.  Just have a bit.  Go on, have a bit and shut up.”

He put the dish down on the larder floor before the cat, and the cat, after a few preliminary licks, decided that it was good.  William sat watching for a bit.  Then he came to the conclusion that it was no use wasting time, and began to sample the plates around him.  He ate a whole jelly, and then took four sandwiches off each plate, and four cakes and pasties off each plate.  He had learnt wisdom since the last party.  Meanwhile, the cat licked away at the cream blanc-mange with every evidence of satisfaction.  It even began to purr, and as its satisfaction increased so did the purr.  It possessed a peculiar penetrating purr.

“Cook!” called out Emma from the kitchen.

Cook came out of the library where she was assisting with the festoon hanging.  “What’s the matter?”

“There’s a funny buzzing noise in the larder.”

“Well, go in and see what it is.  It’s probably a wasp, that’s all.”

Emma approached with the key, and William, clasping the blanc-mange to his bosom, withdrew behind the door, slipping off his shoes in readiness for action.

“Poor Puss!” said Emma, opening the door and meeting the cat’s green, unabashed gaze.  “Did it get shut up in the nasty dark larder, then?  Who did it, then?”

She was bending down with her back to William, stroking the cat in the doorway.  William seized his chance.  He dashed past her and up the stairs in stockinged feet like a flash of lightning.  But Emma, leaning over the cat, had espied a dark flying figure out of the corner of her eye.  She set up a scream.  Out of the library came William’s mother, William’s sister, William’s brother, and cook.

“A burglar in the larder!” gasped Emma.  “I seed ’im, I did!  Out of the corner of my eye, like, and when I looked up ’e wasn’t there no more.  Flittin’ up the ’all like a shadder, ’e was.  Oh, lor!  It’s fairly turned me inside!  Oh, lor!”

“What rubbish!” said William’s mother.  “Emma, you must control yourself!”

“I went into the larder myself ’m,” said cook indignantly, “just before I came in to ’elp with the greenery ornaments, and it was hempty as—­hair.  It’s all that silly Emma!  Always ‘avin’ the jumps, she is——­”

“Where’s William?” said William’s mother with sudden suspicion.  “William!”