"But he wasn't," said Mrs. Murcher. "And the boy came downstairs again in a very few minutes." "Where was he during those few minutes?" Mr. Hatville demanded. "Did you watch him, Amy?" "I? No, indeed! Why should I take the trouble to watch him?" cried Miss Canfield. "What was to prevent his going into my room," Hatville inquired, "and taking the watch?" "Nothing that I know of." The silvery accents faltered. "I don't know but I am to blame, Mr. Hatville!" "Oh, no! It wasn't your business to watch strangers who gain admission to the house," said Hatville. "But I did something which I see now was very indiscreet," Amy exclaimed. "It was growing quite dark in the passage, and I opened the door of your room to let in more light. I knew you were not there, and I had no idea your watch was. I am very sorry." [Illustration: "'SHAKE HIM,' SAID MR. HATVILLE."] "You are very frank," replied Hatville. "But don't blame yourself. Of course, you had no idea of putting temptation in the way of a rogue." "No; and I can't believe he was a rogue--such a fine, honest-looking face as he had!" Amy exclaimed. "But I had no business to open your door." Olly overheard this conversation with strangely mingled feelings of envy and remorse, of fear and guilt. How admirable was Amy's prompt confession of her fault, and how readily it was forgiven! Why couldn't he have had a little of her courage, owned his folly, and thrown himself upon Mr. Hatville's mercy! His implied denial had now cut him off from that only noble course; and he saw no way to disentangle the web in which he had involved both himself and his friend. "Wasn't it the same boy who came here again this morning?" asked Mr. Merriman. "He had discovered Olly on the 'Old Cow,'--though nobody knew it was Olly; and he came to get oars and a spy-glass." "Yes," said one of the other ladies; "and he came upstairs to look from the windows. He might have gone into your room then, Mr. Hatville." "But if he had stolen the watch the night before, would he have shown his face here again this morning?" argued the landlady, who had been too much bewildered by what had occurred in her house, to take much part in the previous conversation. "He might have done just that thing," Hatville replied, "in order to brazen it out, and make a show of innocence. But most likely he saw the chronometer then, and, having had time to think about it, he watched for a chance to take it this morning, when it was supposed I might have been lost in the yacht." That seemed very probable; and Mrs. Murcher was obliged to admit that there had been no other stranger about the place, to her knowledge, except the messenger who brought Mr. Hatville's telegram. He, however, had not got out of his buggy. "That same boy is on the beach now, gathering seaweed," said Mrs. Merriman. "At least, he was there a short time ago."