"That's rather queer, isn't it? Mr. Hadleigh was not there, and he may think it was your fault after all."
"God was there. He saw it all, and He knows everything—even why Norris is so against me; and He will make it right."
But Owen could not go on talking; the pain was so severe, he could only just bear it by keeping perfectly quiet. An hour or two passed away slowly, when Owen was surprised to hear his uncle's voice at the door, calling softly, "David!"
The boy rose. "Yes, sir," he replied.
"Is Owen asleep?"
"No, sir, he can't sleep, the pain is so bad."
"Well, come with me a minute, and then you shall return to him."
The door was gently closed, and Owen heard no more, except a whispered consultation outside. Then he was left alone for some time.
A strange thing had happened. In the bustle and confusion of Owen's accident Mr. Hadleigh had been somewhat upset, and just as he was getting into bed he remembered that he had left his cash-box in the counting-house. Such a thing had never occurred before in all his business life, and he was a good deal dismayed when he thought of it. Throwing on a dressing-gown, and stepping softly for fear of disturbing Owen, he went downstairs. He carried no candle, for he knew just where he had left the box, and he feared a light might set fire to something. He had just reached the glass door leading into the shop, and was about to put his hand out to open it, when he observed a faint light in one corner, and a figure moving. For a moment he seemed paralysed, but gathering his wits together, he carefully watched for a moment or two, when he saw the muffled figure of a man reaching down canisters and boxes, carefully and gently, and abstracting part of their contents. Not much out of each, evidently, for the parcels he made up were small; but the basket on the floor held a good many of them. The man's face he could not see, nor could he at all make out the figure.
After watching him for a moment, he crept upstairs, and calling David out of Owen's room, sent him off by a back-door to the neighbouring police-station, while he again mounted guard at the glass door. It seemed a long time to Mr. Hadleigh as he stood watching the thief walking softly about the shop, helping himself here and there to tea, sugar, cloves and spices, dried fruit, and other goods. He felt sure it was one who knew the premises well, by the way he went about, laying his hands on exactly what he wanted. Who could it be? It was neither Owen nor David, that was clear, and Mr. Hadleigh felt quite relieved when David returned with two policemen, who did not speak a word, but looked through the glass door, as Mr. Hadleigh silently pointed out the thief to them.