‘But surely, Walter, the mere matter of locking up the strong-room cannot occupy grandfather from six o’clock until even ten, much, less until midnight.’
‘That’s the mystery,’ said the young man thoughtfully.
Rachel clasped her hands and turned her pale face towards Walter. ‘What you tell me, makes me very anxious,’ said she. ‘Indeed, I know not why, but I begin to be seriously alarmed. What can all this mean?’
‘What, indeed? That’s the mystery,’ repeated the young man, in a still more meditative tone.
‘Then again, Walter, I cannot understand why grandfather leaves home for the counting-house, as he tells me, at five o’clock in the morning. Can that be necessary?’
‘Oh, no, no! The hours are from nine till six,’ cried Walter. ‘But at what hour Silas Monk arrives, no one knows, or ever did know. We always find him seated at his desk in the morning when we come, just as we leave him there when we go in the evening.—Do you know, Rachel,’ added Walter, ‘if I was ignorant of the fact that he had his home and this little housekeeper, I should be disposed to agree with the fellows at the office who declare Silas Monk haunts the counting-house all night long.’
Rachel started. These words, uttered by the young man half in jest, brought thoughts into the girl’s head which had never entered there before.
‘Good-bye, Rachel,’ said Walter. ‘Armytage and Company will be wondering what has become of me.’
The lovers went together to the front-door, where Walter hastily took his leave. He looked back, however, more than once, as he went down the street, and saw Rachel standing on the doorstep watching him. So, when he reached the corner, he waved his hand to her, and then plunged into the busy thoroughfare.