“Don’t take it like that, Harry,” said Louise tenderly. “There is always hope, dear.”
She looked lovingly in his eyes, and pressed his hand, as their father went on talking in a low voice, and giving utterance to his thoughts.
“The scoundrels, as far as I can make out, Harry, my boy, seem to have got in by the back. The door was unfastened, and they must have known a good deal about the place—by watching I suppose, for they knew where to find the keys, and how to open the safe.”
Harry’s breath came in a spasmodic way, as he sat there chained, as it were, to his place.
“Five hundred pounds. A very heavy sum. I must not blame him, poor fellow, but I should have thought it a mistake to have so large a sum in the house.”
At last the doctor descended looking very grave.
“Ah, Knatchbull,” said Vine in an excited whisper as he rose and caught the doctor’s hand; “how is he?”
The doctor shook his head.
“Has he recovered his senses?”
“No.”