“Do you think so?” Eleanor said in an awed voice.  “That is terrible.  But you said the men were engaged in packing up the candlesticks and ornaments.”

“Oh, I believe that was a mere blind.  Of course they would wish us to believe they were simply burglars, and therefore they acted as such to begin with.  But there has never been any attempt on the house during the forty years we have lived here.  Why should there be so now?  If Anna had not fortunately heard those men I believe that when they had packed up a few things to give the idea that they were burglars, they would have gone to the library and set to to ransack it and find the will.”

“But they would never have found it, Charlotte.  It is too well hidden for that.”

“There is no knowing,” Miss Penfold said gloomily.  So long as it is in existence we shall never feel comfortable.  It will be much better to destroy it.”

“No, no!” Eleanor exclaimed.  “We agreed, Charlotte, that there was no reason why we should assist them to find it; but that is altogether a different thing from destroying it.  I should never feel happy again if we did.”

“As for that,” Miss Penfold said somewhat scornfully, “you don’t seem very happy now.  You are always fretting and fidgeting over it.”

“It is not I who am fancying that these burglars came after the will,” Eleanor answered in an aggrieved voice.

“No; that is the way with timid people,” Miss Penfold said.  “They are often afraid of shadows, and see no danger where danger really exists.  At any rate, I am determined to see whether the will really is where we suppose it to be.  If it is I shall take it out and hide it in the mattress of my bed.  We know that it will be safe there at any rate as long as I live, though I think it wiser to destroy it.”

“No, no,” Eleanor exclaimed; “anything but that.  I sleep badly enough now, and am always dreaming that Herbert is standing by my bedside with a reproachful look upon his face.  I should never dare sleep at all if we were to destroy it.”

“I have no patience with such childish fancies, as I told you over and over again,” Miss Penfold said sharply.  “If I am ready to take the risk of doing it, I do not see that you need fret about it.  However, I am ready to give in to your prejudices, and indeed would rather not destroy it myself if it can be safely kept elsewhere.  At any rate I shall move it from its hiding-place.  We know that it is there and nowhere else that it will be searched for, and with it in my room we need have no more uneasiness.  I can unsew the straw pailliasse at the bottom of my bed, and when it is safely in there I shall have no fear whatever.”

“Of course you can do as you like, Charlotte,” Eleanor said feebly; “but for my part I would much rather go on as we are.  We don’t know now that the will really exists, and I would much rather go on thinking that there is a doubt about it.”