essary, she said, the men must come into her room.
She had been so overset by what had occurred on the previous night,
that she could not leave her room. She appealed to Lucinda as to the
fact of her illness. The trouble of these robberies was so great
upon her that her heart was almost broken. If her deposition must
be taken, she would make it in bed. In the course of the day the
magistrate did come into her room and the deposition was taken.
Forty-three pounds had been taken from her desk, and certain jewels,
which she described, from her dressing-case. As far as she was aware,
no other property of hers was missing. This she said in answer to a
direct question from the magistrate, which, as she thought, was asked
with a stern voice and searching eye. And so, a second time, she had
sworn falsely. But this at least was gained,--that Lord George de
Bruce Carruthers was not looking at her as she swore.

Lord George was in the house for a great part of the day, but he did
not ask to be admitted to Lizzie's room;--nor did she ask to see him.
Frank Greystock was there late in the afternoon, and went up at once
to his cousin. The moment that she saw him she stretched out her arms
to him, and burst into tears. "My poor girl," said he, "what is the
meaning of it all?"

"I don't know. I think they will kill me. They want to kill me. How
can I bear it all? The robbers were here last night, and magistrates
and policemen and people have been here all day." Then she fell
into a fit of sobbing and wailing, which was, in truth, hysterical.
For,--if the readers think of it,--the poor woman had a great deal to
bear.

Frank, into whose mind no glimmer of suspicion against his cousin had
yet entered, and who firmly believed that she had been made a victim
because of the value of her diamonds,--and who had a theory of his
own about the robbery at Carlisle, to the circumstances of which he
was now at some pains to make these latter circumstances adhere,--was
very tender with his cousin, and remained in the house for more than
an hour. "Oh, Frank, what had I better do?" she asked him.

"I would leave London, if I were you."

"Yes;--of course. I will. Oh yes, I will!"

"If you don't fear the cold of Scotland--"

"I fear nothing,--nothing but being where these policemen can come to
me. Oh!"--and then she shuddered and was again hysterical. Nor was
she acting the condition. As she remembered the magistrates, and the
detectives, and the