"Couldn't be," said Cattledon decisively, who had been making her way over the _débris_ to examine the shutters. "They have not been forced in any way: they have simply been opened. The window also." "And neither window nor shutters could be opened from the outside without force," remarked Miss Deveen. "I fear, George, you must have forgotten this room when you shut up last night." "Indeed, ma'am, I did not forget it," was the respectful answer. "I assure you I bolted the window and barred the shutters as I always do." Janet Carey, standing in mute wonder like the rest of us, testified to this. "When I came in here last night to get a needle and thread to mend Miss Whitney's dress, I am sure the shutters were shut: I noticed that they were." Cattledon would not listen. She had taken up her own opinion of George's neglect, and sharply told Janet not to be so positive. Janet looked frightfully white and wan this morning, worse than a ghost. "Oh, goodness!" cried Helen Whitney, appearing on the scene. "If ever I saw such a thing!" "I never did--in all my life," cried Cattledon. "Have you lost any valuables from the secretary, Miss Deveen?" "My dear Helen, there were no valuables in the secretary to lose," was Miss Deveen's answer. "Sometimes I keep money in it--a little: but last night there happened to be none. Of course the thieves could not know that, and must have been greatly disappointed. If they did not come in through the window--why, they must have got in elsewhere." Miss Deveen spoke in a dubious tone, that too plainly showed her own doubts on the point. George felt himself and his word reflected upon. "If I had indeed forgotten this window last night, ma'am--though for me to do such a thing seems next door to impossible--I would confess to it at once. I can be upon my oath, ma'am, if put to it, that I made all secure here at dusk." "Then, George, you had better look to your other doors and windows," was the reply of his mistress. The other doors and windows were looked to: but no trace could be found of how the thieves got in. After breakfast, we succeeded in putting the room tolerably straight. The letters and bills took most time, for every one was lying open. And after it was all done, Miss Deveen came to the conclusion that nothing had been taken. "Their object must have been money," she observed. "It is a good thing I happened to carry my cash-box upstairs yesterday. Sometimes I leave it here in the secretary." "And was much in it?" one of us asked. "Not very much. More, though, than one cares to lose: a little gold and a bank-note." "A bank-note!" echoed Janet, repeating the words quickly. "_Is_ it safe?--are you sure, ma'am, the note is safe?" "Well, I conclude it is," answered Miss Deveen with composure. "I saw the cash-box before I came down this morning. I did not look inside it." "Oh, but you had better look," urged Janet, betraying some excitement. "Suppose it should be gone! Can _I_ look, ma'am?"