‘No, papa, do not put this off. There is another reason why I speak. Christopher Davy is bedridden. You are sometimes absent, then we girls are left alone in this great house, all day, and occasionally nights as well. You know there was no one here on that night when the accident happened. There were two men in this house, one, indeed, insensible. We know nothing of them, who they were, and what they were about. How can you tell that bad characters may not come here? It is thought that you have saved money, and it is known that Morwell is unprotected. You, papa, are so frail, and with your shaking hand a gun would not be dangerous.’ He started from his chair and upset his specimens. ‘Do not speak like that,’ he said, trembling. ‘There, I have disturbed you even by alluding to it. If you were to level a gun, and had your finger——’ He put his hand, a cold, quivering hand, on her lips: ‘For God’s sake—silence!’ he said. She obeyed. She knew how odd her father was, yet his agitation now was so great that it surprised her. It made her more resolute to carry her point. ‘Papa, you are expecting to have about two thousand pounds in the house. Will it be safe? You have told the doctor, and that man, our patient, heard you. Excuse my saying it, but I think it was not well to mention it before a perfect stranger. You may have told others. Mr. Coyshe is a chatterbox, he may have talked about it throughout the neighbourhood—the fact may be known to everyone, that to-day you are expecting to have a large sum of money brought you. Well—who is to guard it? Are there no needy and unscrupulous men in the county who would rob the house, and maybe silence an old man and two girls who stood in their way to a couple of thousand pounds?’ ‘The sum is large. It must be hidden away,’ said Mr. Jordan, uneasily. ‘I had not considered the danger’—he paused—’if it be paid——’ ‘_If_, papa? I thought you were sure of it.’ ‘Yes, quite sure; only Mr. Coyshe disturbed me by suggesting doubts.’ ‘Oh, the doctor!’ exclaimed Barbara, shrugging her shoulders. ‘Well, the doctor,’ repeated Mr. Jordan, captiously. ‘He is a very able man. Why do you turn up your nose at him? He can see through a stone wall, and under a cushion to where a stocking is hidden, and under a cupboard to where a saucer of sour milk is thrust away; and he can see into the human body through the flesh and behind the bones, and can tell you where every nerve and vein is, and what is wrong with each. When things are wrong, then it is like stockings and saucers where they ought not to be in a house.’ ‘He was wrong about the saucer of sour milk, utterly wrong,’ persisted Barbara. ‘I hope and trust the surgeon was wrong in his forecast about the money—but my heart fails me——’ ‘He was wrong about the saucer,’ said the girl encouragingly. ‘But he was right about the stocking,’ said her father dispiritedly. CHAPTER XI. GRANTED!