"Articles of that value ought to be at the bankers'," remarked Philip Cleeve. He was standing by the mantelpiece, a little apart from the circle. An anxiety bordering on restlessness sat in his countenance, sufficiently apparent to one of those around him--Maria Kettle; and his hand, which had met hers on his entrance, felt dry and feverish.
"I dare say Miss Winter will send them to the bankers' in a few days' time," said Mrs. Toynbee in answer to the remark. "But she wants Mr. Daventry to see them first, and he is not at home. She----"
"Daventry is in London," interrupted Philip. "He won't be back till the beginning of next week--Monday or Tuesday."
"True," assented Mrs. Toynbee. "I called at the office as I drove in, and found that only Mr. Webb was there. Miss Winter--really she is ultra-scrupulous in many things--does not feel sure whether the jewels rightly belong to her; she will do nothing with them before she gets Mr. Daventry's opinion. Until then they will remain where they are, untouched."
"I hope they will be safe," laughed Philip.
"Safe!" echoed Mrs. Toynbee: "why should they not be safe? They are where they have been lying hidden all these years. None of the servants have been told of the discovery; not even old Aaron and his wife."
"By the way," cried Margaret Ducie, lifting her head from the pencilled notes she had been making of the suggested plans for the relief of the poor, "has that relative of theirs, young Stone, turned up yet?"
"Not yet," said Mrs. Toynbee. "Nobody can imagine where he is staying. We think he must be unavoidably detained somewhere--though it is strange he does not write to say so."
The meeting and conversation recorded above took place on Thursday afternoon. On the following Monday morning old Aaron Stone proceeded, as usual, to open the doors and windows of the Hall--for he would not allow that duty to be performed by anybody but himself. At an unearthly hour, as the maids considered it, whom he obliged to be also up in readiness for their work, old Aaron would be on the move. As he was on this day; there was only just light enough yet for him to see his way about.
After unbolting the outer doors, he first turned into Miss Winter's morning-room, as it was called, which opened from the large hall. The moment he entered it, he saw that some one had been there before him. The lower sash of the window was thrown up, one of the shutters had been forced open, while sundry papers scattered about the floor betrayed that the escritoire had been visited. Aaron knew nothing about the jewels that had been found and left there; but the evidence of robbery was enough for him. Hurrying up to Miss Winter's chamber, he aroused her from sleep with his news. She partly dressed herself and followed him down.