Mrs. Wincher uttered no syllable of reply. She could only gaze at the speaker in dumb wonderment. She began to fear that this young man was going mad. ‘He’s been eggziting and werrying of hisself till he’s on the high road to a lunacy asylum,’ she said to herself presently, when Lucius had passed her and gone into Mr. Sivewright’s room. ‘You took away my medicine yesterday morning,’ said the invalid in his most querulous tone, ‘and sent me none to replace it. However, as I feel much better without it, your physic was no loss.’ ‘Pardon my inattention,’ said Lucius. ‘And you really feel better without the medicine? Those troublesome symptoms have abated, eh?’ They had abated, Mr. Sivewright said, and he went on to describe his condition, in which there was positive improvement. ‘I’m glad to find you so much better,’ Lucius said, ‘for you will be able to hear some rather disagreeable intelligence. You have been robbed.’ ‘Robbed!’ cried the old man, starting up in his bed as if moved by a galvanic battery. ‘Robbed! Yes, I thought as much when I heard those footsteps. Robbed! My collection rifled of its gems, I suppose. The Capo di Monte—the Copenhagen—the old Roman medals in the ebony cabinet—the Boucher tapestry!’ he exclaimed, running over the catalogue of his treasures breathlessly. ‘These are safe, for anything I know to the contrary. You had a monstrance in silver-gilt?’ ‘Gold!’ cried the old man; ‘twenty-carat gold! I had it assayed. I gave thirty pounds for that monstrance to an old scoundrel who was going to break it up for the sake of the gems, and who believed it was lacquer. It had been stolen from some foreign church, no doubt. The emeralds alone are worth two hundred pounds. You don’t mean to tell me I’ve been robbed of that?’ ‘I’m sorry to say that and some pieces of old silver are missing; but I hope to recover them.’ ‘Recover the dead from the bottom of the sea and bring them to life again!’ cried Mr. Sivewright vehemently. ‘You might do that as easily as the other. Why, those things were in the muniment chest, and Wincher had the key. He has kept that key for the last twenty years.’ ‘Some one has found his way to the chest in spite of Mr. Wincher’s care,’ answered Lucius gravely. He went on to relate the particulars of the robbery. The old man got out of bed while he was talking, and began to drag on his clothes with trembling hands. ‘I will not lie here to be plundered,’ he exclaimed, profoundly agitated. ‘Now, that is what I feared,’ cried Lucius. ‘If you do not obey me implicitly, I shall repent having told you the truth. You must remain in this room till you are strong enough to leave it. You can surely trust me to protect the property in which your generous confidence has given me the strongest interest.’