was no money there. And then I went
downstairs in the dark. I never knew it to be so dark, in spite of the
street-lamp. I knocked against the clock. I nearly knocked it over.
I managed to light the gas in the back room. I made sure that I must
have left _all_ the notes on the top of the cupboard instead of
only part of them. But there was nothing there at all. Nothing! Then
I looked all over the sitting-room floor with a candle. When I got
upstairs again I didn't know what I was doing. I knew I was going to
be ill, and I just managed to ring the bell for dear Rachel, and
the next thing I remember was I was in bed here, and Rachel putting
something hot to my feet--the dear child!"

Her eyes glistened with tears. And Rachel too, as she pictured
the enfeebled and despairing incarnation of dignity colliding with
grandfather's clocks in the night and climbing on chairs and groping
over carpets, had difficulty not to cry, and a lump rose in her
throat. She was so moved by compassion that she did not at first feel
the full shock of the awful disappearance of the money.

Mr. Batchgrew, for the second time that morning unequal to a
situation, turned foolishly to the wardrobe, clearing his throat and
snorting.

"It's on one of the sliding trays," said Mrs. Maldon.

"What's on one of the sliding trays?"

"The serviette."

Rachel, who was nearest, opened the wardrobe and immediately
discovered the missing serviette and ring, which had the appearance of
a direct dramatic proof of Mrs. Maldon's story.

Mr. Batchgrew exclaimed, indignant--

"I never heard such a rigmarole in all my born days." And then,
angrily to Rachel, "Go down and look on th' top o' th' cupboard,
thee!"

Rachel hesitated.

"I'm quite resigned," said Mrs. Maldon placidly. "It's a punishment on
me for hardening my heart to Julian last night. It's a punishment for
my pride."

"Now, then!" Mr. Batchgrew glared bullyingly at Rachel, who vanished.

In a few moments she returned.

"There's nothing at all on the top of the cupboard."

"But th' money must be somewhere," said Mr. Batchgrew savagely. "Nine
hundred and sixty-five pun. And I've arranged to lend out that money
again, at once! What am I to say to th' mortgagor? Am I to tell him as
I've lost it?... No! I never!"

Mrs. Maldon murmured--

"Nay, nay! It's no use looking at me. I thought I should never get
over it in the night. But I'm quite resigned now."

Rachel, standing near the door, coul