"The cross has gone," repeated Hale decisively, "your cottage has been robbed, burgled. I repeat, the cross has gone."
[CHAPTER IV]
A FAMILY HISTORY
After delivering his message of woe, Mr. Hale sat down on the garden seat under the chestnut tree, and mechanically flicked the dust from his neat brown shoes with a silk handkerchief. He was perfectly arrayed as usual, and on account of the heat of the day wore a suit of spotless drill, cool and clean-looking. But if his clothes were cool he certainly was not, for his usually colourless face was flushed a deep red and his eyes sparkled with anger. Lesbia, who had risen with George, looked at him with compunction in her heart. After all--so her thoughts ran--she had suspected her father wrongly. If he had attacked George to regain this unlucky cross, he assuredly would not now be lamenting its loss. And yet if he were innocent, who was guilty, considering the few people who knew that the ornament was in existence? Tim might--but it was impossible to suspect Tim Burke, who was the soul of honesty.
"Well," said Hale crossly, "what is to be done?"
He looked directly at George, who faced him standing, with a look of perplexity on his handsome face. "Are you sure that the house has been robbed?" he asked doubtfully.
Mr. Hale shrugged his shoulders. "I usually say what I mean," he remarked acridly. "I took your note to Medmenham, and found the local policeman conversing with your mother's servant. From her I learned what had taken place, and, indeed, she was telling the constable when I came up."
"Well?"
"It seems," pursued Hale, producing a cigar, "that Jenny--as she is called----"
"Yes, yes!" broke in Walker impatiently, "go on."