Every one looked. It was true enough—the case was empty, and the watch gone. For a moment there was a dead silence, the company being too much astonished to speak.
"Stolen!" exclaimed Raymond. "I said it would be some day."
"But when was it taken?—Who could have done it?—Where did they get in?—How did they know about it?"
These and other questions followed each other in rapid succession. A robbery at Brenlands! The thing seemed impossible; and yet here was the empty case to prove it. The watch had disappeared, and no one had the slightest notion what could have become of it.
"There's something in this lock," said Valentine, who had been peering into the keyhole. "Lend me your crochet needle, Helen, and I'll get it out."
With some little difficulty the obstacle was removed, and on examination proved to be a fragment of a broken key.
"Hallo!" said Raymond, "here's a clue at any rate. Don't lose it; put it in that little jar on the mantelpiece."
The remainder of the morning was passed in an excited discussion regarding the mysterious disappearance of the gold timepiece.
"I can't think any one can have stolen it," said Queen Mab. "How should they have known about it? and, besides, if any one broke into the house last night, how is it they didn't take anything else—that little silver box, for instance?"
"It's stolen, right enough," said Raymond. "It couldn't have been Joe Crouch, could it?"