Nance at last came face to face with her husband in the butler’s pantry. There a scene of the utmost confusion and destruction met her astonished eyes. The celebrated Clever safe, which was supposed to be proof against any burglar in the land, had been burst open by means of certain explosives, which had probably been introduced through a joint in the side. The safe had been nearly completely rifled of its contents. The secret receptacle for the jewel case had been discovered, and the splendid Rowton diamonds, with many other valuable and priceless jewels, had disappeared; the gold plate had also completely vanished. In short, the burglars had possessed themselves of many thousand pounds’ worth of valuable goods. “Here’s a wreck,” said Rowton, turning to Nance when she appeared. His face was pale, and his underlip shook. “You see what this boasted safe is worth, after all,” he continued. “Yes, yes; but the jewels are nothing,” panted Nancy, “it is the child. Who minds about the jewels or the plate? Oh, Adrian, it is Murray.” “Murray!” cried the man; “what in the world do you mean? What has Murray to do with this?” “Nothing, of course,” said Nancy, tottering as she spoke, “only they seem to have stolen him, too. He cannot be found anywhere; Murray is lost.” For answer Rowton took his wife’s hand with that grip of iron which had hurt her so much on the night of her arrival at the Heights. “Come into my study,” he said in a voice which he scarcely recognised as his own. He shut the door when he got there, and turned her round to face him. “Now, tell me everything,” he said. “Why do you look like that?” she replied. “Don’t mind my looks. Tell me everything, quickly.” Nance repeated the story which Hester had told her. “A plant!” muttered Adrian under his breath. “What did you say, Adrian? I did not hear you.” “The devil is in this job, Nancy,” he replied; “for Heaven’s sake, leave me for a moment.” “Do you really think any harm has happened to the little fellow?” “Harm? God only knows. Would I had never been born. Leave me, wife; I shall go mad if your innocent eyes look into mine a moment longer. I must do something, and I must be alone.” CHAPTER XXVII. INVISIBLE INK. Nance left the room. The moment she closed the door behind her the master of the Heights went straight to his desk. His brow was like thunder; his face was white with an awful grey shadow over it. “Long John has gone one step too far,” he muttered. “The robbery was planned and carried out to perfection. It was done as a blind, and as a blind it will succeed admirably; but this—this blow was aimed at me. I have threatened to throw up the sponge. If I do, it will mean so much that all will be up with the Silver School. Now, hear me, Heaven,” continued the man, clenching his hand and looking up as he spoke, “I swear, I swear that, as I live, if that boy is not back at the Heights within twenty-four hours, I carry out my threat.”