“Two thousand pounds!” exclaimed Solomon, too amazed at the magnitude of the sum to realize what had happened to it.  “Two thousand pounds in a box!” He had always suspected that the old man kept something in a stocking-foot, and had often rallied him upon his unnecessary caution with respect to investments; but this statement of his appeared incredible.

“What does it matter if it was twenty thousand, when I tell you it’s gone,” said Trevethick, sullenly.  “That limb of the devil, Yorke, is off with every shilling of it.”

“Do you mean to say he’s stolen it?” inquired the other, even more astonished than before.

“He’s taken it to Plymouth with him, that’s all.”

Solomon Coe was a man of action, and prompt in emergencies, but for the moment he was fairly staggered.  He had no liking for Richard, but such a charge as this appeared incredible; it seemed more likely that the old man had repented of his late offer of the loan of five hundred pounds, and had invented this monstrous fiction to excuse himself.

“Where was the box kept?” asked Solomon, dryly.

For a moment or two Trevethick was silent.

“It is as I suspected,” thought the other; “the old man is making up the story as he goes on.”

But the fact was that this question had gone to the very root of the matter, and opened Trevethick’s dull eyes wide.  In his chagrin at his loss (though he did believe it would be temporary), and irritation at his sagacity having been set at naught, he had overlooked the most serious feature of the whole catastrophe.  How had Yorke come to the knowledge that the strong-box was kept in Harry’s room? and under what circumstances had he obtained access to it?

“Where’s Harry?” exclaimed Trevethick, starting up with a great oath; for it flashed upon him that she had fled with Richard.  “Where’s my daughter?”

“I saw her in the village just now,” said Solomon, “talking to old Madge.  She had been for a stroll out Turlock way, she said.  But what’s the use of vexing her about the matter?  Women are much best kept in the dark when one don’t want things to be talked about.  The more quiet you keep this story, the more chance you’ll have of getting your money back, you may depend upon it.  It was in notes, of course?”

“Yes, in notes,” answered the other, with a vacant look, and drumming on the table with his right hand.

“Come, come, Trevethick, you must keep your head,” remonstrated Solomon.  “I’ll act for you quick enough, if you’ll only supply me with the means.  It’s a great loss, but it should not paralyze a man.  You’ve got a memorandum of the numbers of the notes?”

“Yes, yes; I have somewhere.”

“Well; go and fetch it, while I order out a horse.  I can get to Plymouth before wheels can do it, and shall catch this scoundrel yet.  He’ll be going there to change the notes, I reckon?”

“Yes, yes,” said Trevethick; “he’ll be at the George and Vulture; so he said.”