‘What, am I going to doubt her again,’ he said to himself, ‘while she lies ill and helpless, with utmost need of my affection? Of course she was utterly ignorant of the fact that yonder room was occupied, and therefore ridiculed my statement about the open door. Was it strange if her manner seemed flurried or nervous, when she had just been startled by the sight of her father’s portrait? I am a wretch to doubt her, even for a moment.’ He went up to the loft, and thoroughly examined that dusty receptacle, but found no living creature there except the spiders, whose webs festooned the massive timbers that sustained the ponderous tiled roof. This upper portion of the house was vacant enough now; of that there could be no doubt. There was as little doubt that the room yonder had been lately occupied. There could but be one solution of the mystery, Lucius decided, after some anxious thought. Jacob Wincher had accommodated his accomplice with a lodging in that room while the two were planning and carrying out their system of plunder. This examination duly made, and the doors fastened up again in a permanent manner, by the help of the blacksmith, Lucius felt easier in his mind. There was still that uncomfortable feeling about the secret staircase; but with the upper part of the house under lock-and-key, and the lower part carefully guarded, no great harm could come from the mere existence of that hidden communication. In any case, Lucius had done his utmost to make all things secure. His most absorbing anxiety now was about Lucille’s illness. His treatment had been to a considerable extent successful; the delirium had passed away. The sweet eyes recognised him once again; the gentle voice thanked him for his care. But the fever had been followed by extreme weakness. The sick girl lay on her bed from day to day, ministered to by Mrs. Milderson, and had scarcely power to lift her head from the pillow. This prostration was rendered all the more painful by the patient’s feverish anxiety to recover strength. Again and again, with a piteous air of entreaty, she asked Lucius when she would be well enough to get up, to go about the house, to attend to her grandfather. ‘My dearest,’ he answered gravely, ‘we must not talk about that yet awhile. We have sufficient reason for thankfulness in the improvement that has taken place already. We must wait patiently for the return of strength.’ ‘I can’t be patient!’ exclaimed Lucille, in the feeble voice that had changed so much since her illness. ‘How can I lie here patiently when I know that I am wanted; that—that everything may be going on wrong without me?’ ‘Was there ever such ingratitude and distrustfulness,’ cried the comfortable old nurse, with pretended chiding, ‘when she knows I’m that watchful of the poor old gentleman, and give him all he wants to the minute; and that when things was at the worst you slept in the little room next him, Mr. Davoren, so as to keep guard, as you may say, at night?’