She went to the parlour door and opened it, displaying the hall clock, which showed twenty-five minutes past twelve. Louis had crept up behind Mr. Batchgrew, who in his inapposite white waistcoat stood between the two lovers, stertorous with vague anathema. "So that was the time," said he. "And th' burglars must ha' been and gone afore that. A likely thing burglars coming at twelve o'clock at night, isn't it? And I'll tell ye summat else. Them burglars was copped last night at Knype at eleven o'clock when th' pubs closed, if ye want to know--the whole gang of three on 'em." "Then what about that burglary last night down the Lane?" Rachel asked sharply. "Oh!" exclaimed Louis. "Was there a burglary down the Lane last night? I didn't know that." "No, there wasn't," said Batchgrew ruthlessly. "That burglary was a practical joke, and it's all over the town. Denry Machin had a hand in that affair, and by now I dare say he wishes he hadn't." "Still, Mr. Batchgrew," Louis argued superiorly, with the philosophic impartiality of a man well accustomed to the calm unravelling of crime, "there may be other burglars in the land beside just those three." He would not willingly allow the theory of burglars to crumble. Its attractiveness increased every moment. "There may and there mayn't, young Fores," said Thomas Batchgrew. "Did _you_ hear anything of 'em?" "No, I didn't," Louis replied restively. "And yet you ought to have been listening out for 'em." "Why ought I to have been listening out for them?" "Knowing there was all that money in th' house." "Mr. Fores didn't know," said Rachel. Louis felt himself unjustly smirched. "It's scarcely an hour ago," said he, "that I heard about this money for the first time." And he felt as innocent and aggrieved as he looked. Mr. Batchgrew smacked his lips loudly. "Then," he announced, "I'm going down to th' police-station, to put it i' Snow's hands." Rachel straightened herself. "But surely not without telling Mrs. Maldon?" Mr. Batchgrew fingered his immense whiskers. "Is she better?" he inquired threateningly. This was his first sign of interest in Mrs. Maldon's condition. "Oh, yes; much. She's going on very well. The doctor's just been." "Is she asleep?" "She's resting. She may be asleep." "Did ye tell her ye hadn't found her money?" "Yes." "What did she say?" "She didn't say anything." "It might be municipal money, for all she seems to care!" remarked Thomas Batchgrew, with a short, bitter grin. "Well, I'll be moving to th' police-station. I've never come across aught like this before, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it." Rachel slipped out of the door into the hall. "Please wait a moment, Mr. Batchgrew," she whispered timidly. "What for?" "Till I've told Mrs. Maldon." "But if her's asleep?" "I must waken her. I couldn't think of letting you go to the police-station without letting her know--after what she said this morning." Rachel waited. Mr. Batchgrew glanced aside.