“Then you have talked to him about it?”
“Yes, I have, sir,” answered Dawtie, sorry she had brought out the question.
“And you know the worth of the thing?”
“Yes, sir; that is, I don't know how much it was worth, but I should say pounds and pounds.”
“Then, Dawtie, I must ask you again, where is it?”
“I know nothing about it, sir. I wish I did!”
“Why do you wish you did?”
“Because—” began Dawtie, and stopped short; she shrunk from impugning the honesty of the dead man—and in the presence of his daughter.
“It looks a little fishy, don't it, Dawtie? Why not speak straight out? Perhaps you would not mind searching Meg's trunk for me. She may have taken it for a bit of old brass, you know.”
“I will answer for my servants, Mr. Crawford,” said Alexa. “I will not have old Meg's box searched.”