And now Mrs. Maldon, in full possession of her faculties, faced Thomas Batchgrew for the interview which she had insisted on having.  And Rachel waited with an uncanny apprehension, her ears full of the mysterious and frightful phrase, “I’ve lost all that money.”

III

Mrs. Maldon, after a few words had passed as to her illness, used exactly the same phrase again—­“I’ve lost all that money!”

Mr. Batchgrew snorted, and glanced at Rachel for an explanation.

“Yes.  It’s all gone,” proceeded Mrs. Maldon with calm resignation.  “But I’m too old to worry.  Please listen to me.  We lost my serviette and ring last evening at supper.  Couldn’t find it anywhere.  And in the night it suddenly occurred to me where it was.  I’ve remembered everything now, almost, and I’m quite sure.  You know you first told me to put the money in my wardrobe.  Now before you said that, I had thought of putting it on the top of the cupboard to the right of the fireplace in the back room downstairs.  I thought that would be a good place for it in case burglars did come.  No burglar would ever think of looking there.”

“God bless me!” Mr. Batchgrew muttered, scornfully protesting.

“It couldn’t possibly be seen, you see.  However, I thought I ought to respect your wish, and so I decided I’d put part of it on the top of the cupboard, and part of it underneath a lot of linen at the bottom of the drawer in my wardrobe.  That would satisfy both of us.”

“Would it!” exclaimed Mr. Batchgrew, without any restraint upon his heavy, rolling voice.

“Well, I must have picked up the serviette and ring with the bank-notes, you see.  I fear I’m absent-minded like that sometimes.  I know I went out of the sitting-room with both hands full.  I know both hands were occupied, because I remember when I went into the back room I didn’t turn the gas up, and I pushed a chair up to the cupboard with my knee, for me to stand on.  I’m certain I put some of the notes on the top of the cupboard.  Then I came upstairs.  The window on the landing was rattling, and I put the other part of the money on the chair while I tried to fasten the window.  However, I couldn’t fasten it.  So I left it.  And then I thought I picked up the money again off the chair and came in here and hid it at the bottom of the drawer and locked the wardrobe.”

“You thought!” said Thomas Batchgrew, gazing at the aged weakling as at an insane criminal.  “Was this just after I left?”

Mrs. Maldon nodded apologetically.

“When I woke up the first time in the night, it struck me like a flash:  Had I taken the serviette and ring up with the notes?  I am liable to do that sort of thing.  I’m an old woman—­it’s no use denying it.”  She looked plaintively at Rachel, and her voice trembled.  “I got up.  I was bound to get up, and I turned the gas on, and there the serviette and ring were at the bottom