"It is not there, Mr. Chandos; it is gone."
"It cannot be gone," he said, taking out his watch. "It is only four o'clock. Emily's letter is not put there yet."
Hickens was called. Hickens, in a marvel of consternation—at being asked what he had done with the letter—protested he had not seen it; he had not been in the hall that afternoon.
We all went out; it seemed so strange a thing; and I showed Mr. Chandos where I had laid the letter. It had not slipped down; it could not be seen anywhere. Mr. Chandos looked at me: he was evidently thinking that the spy was again at work.
"Was any one in the hall when you put the letter here, Miss Hereford?"
"Lizzy Dene was passing through it. And Mrs. Penn and Hill were standing on the stairs."
"They would not touch it," said Mr. Chandos, just as Lizzy Dene, hearing the commotion, looked from the door of the large dining-room. It was her place to keep the room in order, and she seemed to choose odd times to do it in. Mr. Chandos questioned her, but she said she had not touched the letter; had not in fact noticed it.
At this juncture Mrs. Chandos came down the stairs, dressed for going out, attended by Mrs. Penn. She inquired of Mr. Chandos what the matter was.
"A letter has mysteriously disappeared from the hall, Ethel," he replied.
"A letter disappeared! how strange!" she returned, in the rather vacant manner that at times characterized her. "Was it of consequence?"