"I counted it out--six and tenpence, no less, sir, and I kissed the box, and the writing, and the money too, and I only wanted Molly alongside of me to make me as 'appy as the day's long. It lasted me a long while, that money did." "Did you ever find any more?" I asked. "No, sir, though I looked everywhere for it." "Now, Barbara, can you tell me the name of the place your sister was going to with Mr. Nisbet and Miss Beatrice?" "No, sir, she didn't know 'erself, she sed, but she promised to write to me--in large letters--directly she got there." "Where did she say she would send the letter?' "To the house that Mrs. Simpson lived in, sir." "You remained in that house two weeks after Molly went away?" "Yes, sir." "And no letter came?" "No, sir." "How can you be sure of that?" "Mrs. Simpson didn't git none for me, sir--I'm sure of that, 'cause I know she wouldn't deceive me. Why should she? It wouldn't 'ave done 'er no good to keep it from me; and she wosn't one of that sort. Then, sir, there wos the two postmen as used to leave the letters in the street. I made bold to arsk both of 'em about it, 'Is there a letter for Barbara, wrote large, please?' I sed to them every day, and they sed no, there wosn't. 'You won't give it to no one else, will yer, please, when it comes?' I sed to them and they sed they wouldn't. After Mrs. Simpson wos gone I went to the street regularly, and 'ung about for the postmen, and arsked 'em if there wos a letter for Barbara, or if there'd been one, and they allus sed no, and that they'd keep it for me if they got 'old of it. But it never come, sir. I couldn't 'ave done nothink else to make sure of it, could I, sir?" "You could do nothing more, Barbara; and you were very clever in doing what you did. Did you understand from Molly that she was going abroad?" "Abroad, sir!" exclaimed Barbara, in manifest astonishment. "Out of England, I mean." "Oh, no, sir; she'd 'ave been sure to 'ave told me if she'd 'ad any idea of that. And she'd never 'ave done it, sir; she'd never 'ave gone so fur away from me!" "I don't think she would, Barbara, if she had known it. Did she tell you she was going alone first, and that her master and Miss Beatrice were to follow afterward?" "No, sir, they wos to go all together." "Are you sure of that?" "As sure as I can be, sir." "You have given me sensible answers to all my questions, my dear. I noticed when you came upstairs with us that you kept your eyes closed. I suppose you were sleepy." "It wasn't that, sir." "What was the reason?" "I was frightened, sir." "Of what?" Barbara looked around timidly, and drew closer to the fire. "There's shadders in this 'ere 'ouse," she said, in a low tone. "There are shadows everywhere, Barbara," I answered, as Bob and I exchanged glances. "Tell us what you mean."