that I shall just die right off."

And her manner grew so imperious that Mr. Batchgrew was intimidated.

"But--but--"

"I'd sooner lose all the money!" said Mrs. Maldon, almost wildly.

She blushed. And Rachel also felt herself to be blushing, and was
not sure whether she knew why she was blushing. An atmosphere of
constraint and shame seemed to permeate the room.

Mr. Batchgrew growled--

"The money must be in the house. The truth is, Elizabeth, ye don't
know no more than that bedpost where ye put it."

And Rachel agreed eagerly--

"Of course it _must_ be in the house! I shall set to and turn
everything out. Everything!"

"Ye'd better!" said Thomas Batchgrew.

"That will be the best thing, dear--perhaps," said Mrs. Maldon,
indifferent, and now plainly fatigued.

Every one seemed determined to be convinced that the money was in the
house, and to employ this conviction as a defence against horrible dim
suspicions that had inexplicably emerged from the corners of the room
and were creeping about like menaces.

"Where else should it be?" muttered Batchgrew, sarcastically, after a
pause, as if to say, "Anybody who fancies the money isn't in the house
is an utter fool."

Mrs. Maldon had closed her eyes.

There was a faint knock at the door. Rachel turned instinctively to
prevent a possible intruder from entering and catching sight of
those dim suspicions before they could be driven back into their dark
corners. Then she remembered that she had asked Mrs. Tams to bring up
some Revalenta Arabica food for Mrs. Maldon as soon as it should be
ready. And she sedately opened the door. Mrs. Tams, with her usual
serf-like diffidence, remained invisible, except for the hand holding
forth the cup. But her soft voice, charged with sensational news, was
heard--

"Mrs. Grocott's boy next door but one has just been round to th' back
to tell me as there was a burglary down the Lane last night."

As Rachel carried the food across to the bed, she could not help
saying, though with feigned deference, to Mr. Batchgrew--

"You told us last night that there wouldn't _be_ any more
burglaries, Mr. Batchgrew."

The burning tightness round the top of her head, due to fatigue and
lack of sleep, seemed somehow to brace her audacity, and to make her
careless of consequences.

The trustee and celebrity, though momentarily confounded, was
recovering himself now. He determined to crush the pert creature whose
glance had several t