Mr. Ellis was a little deaf, and took some waking; and Dina, leaving her brother to this, and possessed by a strange mingling of curiosity and dread, crept noiselessly downstairs in the dark, till she stood by the drawing-room door, which was ajar.
Holding her breath, she leaned forward and peeped in, and saw, by the light of a lantern which shone full into the gem cabinet, the dark outline of a man's form in a crouching position. His hands alone were in the clear light of the lantern as they quickly and deftly collected the treasures from the shelves, and slipped them into a bag that lay on the floor. The face of the man was in deep shadow, and not a feature was visible.
But Dina had seen something which appalled her more than a dozen savage ruffians could have done. By that light she recognised those handsome hands, with their long deft fingers, and the plain broad wedding-ring on the little finger, kept as a precious possession through years of hardship and want, for the dead mother's sake. For one moment the child stood in the doorway, rigid with horror; then she darted into the room, and as the burglar looked up, startled, Dina fell forward into his arms.
"How could you? Oh, how could you?" she sobbed. "You that we love so!" and the childish voice was thrilling in its agony of sorrow and reproach. The man's bosom heaved convulsively, and the bag of gems lay unheeded on the floor as he clasped the poor little wrong twin to his heart.
"I was starving, Dina, starving. Do you know what hunger means? And hadn't I a right to something in this house? And if my right was denied, I must help myself."
"Hark!" whispered Dina. "There's dad coming! Run away quick! I'll come to you in the shrubbery, if you'll hide in the jungle walk."
As the child spoke she was pulling him towards the window—one of those big French windows opening down the middle like a double door, and level with the garden path outside.
As Mr. Ellis entered, he just caught a glimpse of the burglar's tall form and caught him by the arm ere he passed out, though not firmly enough to secure him. There was the quick crack of a revolver shot, and a smothered cry from the thief as he stumbled through the window into the darkness beyond.
[CHAPTER VIII.]
GERALDINE'S BURGLAR.