She went to the door, and was about to draw it an inch open, intending to peep out gingerly and listen, when her husband pulled her back with a motion of terror, and put his back against it. This meant, she thought, that he _knew_ a thief was there. Perhaps two of them! "Is there more than one?" she whispered. "Lavinia's silver--my silver, now--is in the basket on the console in the salon." He did not answer. He appeared to be listening. Nancy listened also. The house seemed still as death. "Perhaps I was mistaken," said Captain Fennel, beginning to recover himself after a bit. "I dare say I was." "Well, I think you must have been, Edwin; I can't hear anything. We had better open the door." She undid the bolt as she spoke, and he moved away from it. Nancy cautiously took a step outside, and kept still. Not a sound met her ear. Then she brought forth the candle and looked down the staircase. Not a sign of anything or any one met her eye. "Edwin, there's nothing, there's nobody; come and see. You must have fancied it." "No doubt," answered Captain Fennel. But he did not go to see, for all that. Nancy went back to the room. "Won't you just look downstairs?" she said. "I--I don't much mind going with you." "Not any necessity," replied he, and began to undress--and slipped the bolt again. "Why do you bolt the door to-night?" asked Nancy. "To keep the thief out," said he, in grim tones, which Nancy took for jesting. But she could not at all understand him. His restlessness kept her awake. "It _must_ have been all fancy," she more than once heard him mutter to himself. When he rose in the morning, his restlessness seemed still to hang upon him. Remarking to Nancy, who was only half-awake, that his nerves were out of order, and he should be all the better for a sea-bath, he dressed and left the room. Nancy got down at the usual hour, half-past eight; and was told by Flore that monsieur had left word madame was not to wait breakfast for him: he was gone to have a dip in the sea, and should probably take a long country walk after it. Flore was making the coffee at the kitchen stove; her mistress stood by, as if wanting to watch the process. These last few days, since Lavinia had been carried from the house, Nancy had felt easier in Flore's company than when alone with her own. "That's to steady his nerves; they are out of order," replied Nancy, who had as much idea of reticence as a child. "Monsieur had a great fright last night, Flore." "Truly!" said Flore, much occupied just then with her coffee-pot. "He was coming up to bed between ten and eleven; I had gone on. When nearly at the top of the stairs he thought he heard some one behind him. It startled him frightfully. Not being prepared for it, supposing that the house was empty, you see, Flore, of course it would startle him." "Naturally, madame."