If I had not been able to look below the surface, I might, on observing two nicely dressed men and one nicely dressed woman enter a church before eleven in the morning on a week day, have come to the same hasty conclusion at which my inferiors had evidently arrived.

As it was, appearances had no power to impose on _me_.

I got out, and, followed by one of my men, entered the church.

The other man I sent round to watch the vestry door.

You may catch a weasel asleep, but not your humble servant, Matthew Sharpin! We stole up the gallery stairs, diverged to the organ-loft, and peered through the curtains in front.