“My dearest,” he said, noticing how Nancy’s hand trembled, “there is probably nothing at all to alarm anyone. Servants are always taking fright. You have not been long at the head of an establishment of this sort; if you had, you would not put yourself out simply on account of a scared face. In all probability Vickers misses one of the spoons, and thinks the gang of burglars who are haunting this neighbourhood have broken into the house. I do wish the police would nab those fellows, in order to give us all quiet nights.”
“I wish, Adrian, you would get up. I am quite convinced it is worse than you imagine,” said Nancy.
She went into her dressing-room as she spoke.
To her surprise and consternation both Hester and Mrs. Ferguson were waiting for her there. The housekeeper was on the verge of hysterics.
“The most frightful, awful thing has happened,” she cried; “we cannot find Master Murray high nor low, and Vickers says some people meddled with the safe last night. He says a lot of the plate and most of the jewels are gone, and, oh, ma’am, look, look!”
Nancy turned quickly round. The housekeeper was pointing to her wardrobe, which had been broken open. A glance showed her that her small private jewel-case, the case in which she had put the pearls and diamonds, had been abstracted.
“Don’t be so frightened,” she said to Mrs. Ferguson; “I’ll go back at once and tell my husband. Of course the burglars will soon be caught. But what did you say about Murray?”
“That is the worst of all, ma’am, to my thinking—the child is missing; he can’t be found high nor low.”
“Murray missing! You must be dreaming,” said Nancy.