"Oh, it's not the money; that's a flea-bite. But justice, you know--that's the point," said Mr. Stopper, with his face full of meaning. "Do you suspect any one, Mr. Stopper?" "I do. I found something on the floor. If Mr. Worboise were come," he continued, looking hard at Lucy, "he might be able to help us out with it. Sharp fellow that. But it's an hour past his time, and he's not made his appearance yet. I fear he's been taking to fast ways lately. I'll just go across the court to Mr. Molken, and see if he knows anything about him." "You'll oblige _me_," said Lucy, who was cold to the very heart, but determined to keep up, "by doing nothing of the sort. I will not have his name mentioned in the matter. Does any one but yourself know of the--the robbery, Mr. Stopper?" "Not a soul, miss. I wouldn't do anything till I had been to you. I was here first, as I generally am." "Then, if I am to have anything to say at all," she returned with dignity, "let the matter rest in the mean time--at least till you have some certainty. If you don't you will make suspicion fall on the innocent. It might have been grannie or myself, for anything you can tell yet." "Highty-tighty, lass!" said her grandmother. "We're on our high horse, I believe." Before she could say more, however, Lucy had left the room. She just managed to reach her bed, and fell fainting upon it. Money had evidently, even in the shadow it cast before it, wrought no good effect upon old Mrs. Boxall. The bond between her and her grand-daughter was already weakened. She had never spoken thus to her till now. "Never you mind what the wench says," she went on to Stopper. "The money's none of hers, and shan't be except I please. You just do as you think proper, Mr. Stopper. If that young vagabond has taken the money, why you take him, and see what the law will say to it. The sooner our Lucy is shut of him the better for her--and may be for you too, Mr. Stopper," added the old lady, looking insinuatingly at him.