by H. G. Wells
CHAPTER V
THE BURGLARY AT THE VICARAGE
The facts of the burglary at the vicarage came to us chieflythrough the medium of the vicar and his wife. It occurred in thesmall hours of Whit Monday, the day devoted in Iping to the Clubfestivities. Mrs. Bunting, it seems, woke up suddenly in thestillness that comes before the dawn, with the strong impressionthat the door of their bedroom had opened and closed. She did notarouse her husband at first, but sat up in bed listening. She thendistinctly heard the pad, pad, pad of bare feet coming out of theadjoining dressing-room and walking along the passage towards thestaircase. As soon as she felt assured of this, she aroused theRev. Mr. Bunting as quietly as possible. He did not strike a light,but putting on his spectacles, her dressing-gown and his bathslippers, he went out on the landing to listen. He heard quitedistinctly a fumbling going on at his study desk down-stairs, andthen a violent sneeze.
At that he returned to his bedroom, armed himself with the mostobvious weapon, the poker, and descended the staircase asnoiselessly as possible. Mrs. Bunting came out on the landing.
The hour was about four, and the ultimate darkness of the night waspast. There was a faint shimmer of light in the hall, but the studydoorway yawned impenetrably black. Everything was still except thefaint creaking of the stairs under Mr. Bunting's tread, and theslight movements in the study. Then something snapped, the drawerwas opened, and there was a rustle of papers. Then came animprecation, and a match was struck and the study was flooded withyellow light. Mr. Bunting was now in the hall, and through thecrack of the door he could see the desk and the open drawer and acandle burning on the desk. But the robber he could not see. Hestood there in the hall undecided what to do, and Mrs. Bunting, herface white and intent, crept slowly downstairs after him. One thingkept Mr. Bunting's courage; the persuasion that this burglar was aresident in the village.
They heard the chink of money, and realised that the robber hadfound the housekeeping reserve of gold--two pounds ten in halfsovereigns altogether. At that sound Mr. Bunting was nerved toabrupt action. Gripping the poker firmly, he rushed into the room,closely followed by Mrs. Bunting. "Surrender!" cried Mr. Bunting,fiercely, and then stooped amazed. Apparently the room wasperfectly empty.
Yet their conviction that they had, that very moment, heard somebodymoving in the room had amounted to a certainty. For half a minute,perhaps, they stood gaping, then Mrs. Bunting went across the roomand looked behind the screen, while Mr. Bunting, by a kindredimpulse, peered under the desk. Then Mrs. Bunting turned back thewindow-curtains, and Mr. Bunting looked up the chimney and probed itwith the poker. Then Mrs. Bunting scrutinised the waste-paper basketand Mr. Bunting opened the lid of the coal-scuttle. Then they cameto a stop and stood with eyes interrogating each other.
"I could have sworn--" said Mr. Bunting.
"The candle!" said Mr. Bunting. "Who lit the candle?"
"The drawer!" said Mrs. Bunting. "And the money's gone!"
She went hastily to the doorway.
"Of all the strange occurrences--"
There was a violent sneeze in the passage. They rushed out, and asthey did so the kitchen door slammed. "Bring the candle," said Mr.Bunting, and led the way. They both heard a sound of bolts beinghastily shot back.
As he opened the kitchen door he saw through the scullery thatthe back door was just opening, and the faint light of early dawndisplayed the dark masses of the garden beyond. He is certain thatnothing went out of the door. It opened, stood open for a moment,and then closed with a slam. As it did so, the candle Mrs. Buntingwas carrying from the study flickered and flared. It was a minuteor more before they entered the kitchen.
The place was empty. They refastened the back door, examined thekitchen, pantry, and scullery thoroughly, and at last went downinto the cellar. There was not a soul to be found in the house,search as they would.
Daylight found the vicar and his wife, a quaintly-costumed littlecouple, still marvelling about on their own ground floor by theunnecessary light of a guttering candle.
