"As to what Mr. Brightman has died of, sir?"
"I do not allude to that. But there is some money missing."
"Money!" echoed Leah, in what looked like genuine surprise.
"Last night, after Mr. Brightman came in from dinner, he put a small canvas bag, containing thirty pounds in gold, in the deep drawer of his desk in my room, locked it and put the keys in his pocket. I had occasion to look for that gold immediately after he was found dead, and it was gone."
"Bag and all?" said Leah, after a pause.
"Bag and all."
"Not stolen, surely?"
"I don't see how else it can have disappeared. It could not go without hands; and the question is, did anyone get into the house and take it?"
She looked at me, and I at her: she was apparently thinking. "But how could anyone get in, sir?" she asked in tones of remonstrance.
"I do not see how, unless it was when you went out, Leah. You were out some time, you know. You ran out of the house and down the steps leading to the river, and you were in great agitation. What did it mean?"