We followed in wondering silence, and, after passing along numerous passages, were ushered into a large oak-panelled room with a great carved bed in it, in the middle of which, bolt-upright, sat Sir George Danvers, pale as ivory, his light steel eyes (so like Charles's) seeming to be the only living thing about him. As we came in he looked at each of us in turn. "Where is Charles?" he said, speaking in a hoarse whisper. "Dear me! Sir George," I said, sympathetically, "how you _have_ lost your voice!" He looked at me for a moment, and then turned to Ralph again. "Where is Charles?" he asked a second time, in the same tone. "Here!" said a quiet voice. And Charles came in, and shut the door. CHAPTER IX. The two pairs of steel eyes met, and looked fixedly at each other. A tap came to the door. Sir George winced, and made a sign to Ralph, who rushed to it and bolted it. "I am coming in, George," said Lady Mary's voice. "Send her away," came a whisper from the bed. This was easier said than done. But it _was_ done after a sufficiently long parley; and Lady Mary retired under the impression that Ralph was sitting alone with his father, who thought he might get a little sleep. "Now," whispered Sir George, motioning to Ralph. "The fact is," said Ralph, "the jewels are gone! They have been stolen in the night." He bolted out with this one sentence, and then was silent. Marston and I stared at him aghast. "Is there no mistake?" said Marston at last. "None," replied Ralph. "I put them in a drawer in the great inlaid writing-table in the library last night, before everybody. I went for them this morning, half an hour ago, at father's request. The lock was broken, and they were gone." There was another long silence. "I was a fool, of course, to put them there," resumed Ralph. "Charles told me so; but I thought they were as safe there as anywhere, if no one knew--and no one did except the house party." "Were any of the servants about?" asked Marston. "Not one. They had all gone to bed except one of the footmen, who was putting out the lamps in the supper-room, miles away." Another silence. "That is the dreadful part of it," burst out Ralph. "They must have been taken by some one staying in the house--some one who saw me put them there. The first thing I did was to send for the house-maids, and they assured me that they had found every shutter shut, and every door locked, this morning, as usual. Any one with time and wits _might_ have got in through one of the library windows by taking out a pane and forcing the shutter. I suppose a practised hand might have done such a thing; but I went outside and there was not a footstep in the snow anywhere near the library windows, or, for that matter, anywhere near the house at all, except at the side and front doors, which are impracticable for any one to force an entrance by." "When did it leave off snowing?" asked Marston.