Mary Ursula laughed. "I will tell you what it is," she said: "papa has dropped asleep on the sofa in his room. Twice lately he has done it when he has had a very tiring day." She ran lightly up the stairs as she spoke, and knocked at the chamber door. The lamp that hung in the corridor threw its light upon the oaken panels, and upon her gleaming blue dress. "Papa!" There was no response, and Mary gently turned the handle, intending to open the door about an inch, and call again. That her father was lying on the sofa in a sound sleep, she felt as sure of as though she had seen him. But the door would not open. "Papa! papa!" No: he did not awake, though she called very loudly. Hardly knowing what to do, she ran downstairs again. "Papa must be in a very sound sleep, for I cannot make him hear, and the door is fastened inside," she said, chiefly addressing Stephen, who was nearest to her. "I daresay he has had a fatiguing day." "Yes, ma'am, it have been fatiguing; leastways the latter part of it," replied the man, with an emphasis that they failed to catch. "Some rude people have been knocking here, and making a fine uproar." "Rude people knocking here!" exclaimed Mrs. Webb, taking him up sharply. "What do you mean? What did they want?" "I don't know what they wanted, ma'am: something they couldn't get, I suppose," returned the man, who had no suspicion of the real state of the case, for he believed the house to be simply a mine of wealth that could have no limit, just as children believe in the wondrous riches told of in a fairy tale. "I know I should like to have had the driving of 'em off! Master did well not to see 'em." "But--did papa not see them?" questioned Mary Ursula, surprised into asking the question by this extraordinary story. "No, ma'am; and that's what I fancy they made the noise over. My master was not well, either, this afternoon, for Mr. Hill came running out for hot brandy and water for him." What more would have been said, what doubt created, was stopped by the appearance of Thomas Hill. He had just returned from his mission to the Turk's Head. Apparently it had not been a pleasant mission: for his face was pale with what looked like fear, and he, waiving ceremony, had come straight up the stairs, asking for his master. "I must see him; I must see him instantly. I beg your pardon, dear Miss Castlemaine, but it is of the last importance." Had Thomas Hill only waited a moment before speaking, he would have heard that the banker was fastened in his room. They told him now. He gave one scared look around while taking in the words, and then bounded to the stairs. "Follow me," he cried, turning his livid face on the men. "We must burst open the door. I know he is ill." Mr. Blake-Gordon, the butler and Stephen were up almost as soon as he. Mrs. Webb laid her detaining arm on the young lady. "You must stay here, my dear: you must. They will do better without you."