"So! they have walked into the trap, have they!" he cried, searching here and there in it. "I thought so."
"What is it, Mr. Chandos?" I asked, and he presently turned to me, quitting the table.
"These matters have been puzzling me, Miss Hereford. Is it a petty thief that we have in the house, one to crib lace and such trifles; or is it a spy? I have thought it may be both: such a thing is not beyond the bounds of possibility. A person who took Mrs. Penn's lace would not be likely to take my memorandum-book: for that must have been done to pry into my private affairs, or those of the Chandos family: and a spy, aiming at higher game, would keep clear of petty thefts. The taking of Mrs. Penn's letter, I mean the breaking its seal, I do not understand: but, before that was done, I marked some money and put it in my desk; two sovereigns and two half-crowns. They are gone."
"You locked the desk afterwards?"
"Yes. Now I shall act decisively. Mrs. Penn has thought me very quiet over her loss, I daresay, but I have not seen my way at all clear. I do not, truth to say, see it now."
"In what way, sir?"
"I cannot reconcile the one kind of loss with the other. Unless we have two false inmates among us. I begin to think it is so. Say nothing at all to any one, Miss Hereford."
He wrote a hasty note, directed it, and sealed it with the Chandos coat-of-arms; then ordered his own groom, James, into his presence.
"Saddle one of the horses for yourself, James. When you are ready, come round with him, and I will give you directions."
The man was soon equipped. He appeared leading the horse. Mr. Chandos went out, and I stood at the open window.