At once fascinated and repelled, the two women looked at the money as
at a magic. It represented to Mrs. Maldon a future free from financial
embarrassment; it represented to Rachel more than she could earn in
half a century at her wage of eighteen pounds a year, an unimaginable
source of endless gratifications; and yet the mere fact that it was
to stay in the house all night changed it for them into something dire
and formidable, so that it inspired both of them--the ancient dame and
the young girl--with naught but a mystic dread. Mr. Batchgrew eyed the
affrighted creatures with satisfaction, appearing to take a perverse
pleasure in thus imposing upon them the horrid incubus.

"I was only thinking of burglars;" said Mrs. Maldon apologetically.
"There've been so many burglaries lately--" She ceased, uncertain of
her voice. The forced lightness of her tone was almost tragic.

"There won't be any more," said Mr. Batchgrew condescendingly.


"Why?" demanded Mrs. Maldon with an eager smile of hope. "Have they
caught them, then? Has Superintendent Snow--"

"They have their hands on them. To-morrow there'll be some arrests,"
Mr. Batchgrew answered, exuding authority. For he was not merely a
Town Councillor, he was brother-in-law to the Superintendent of the
Borough Police. "Caught 'em long ago if th' county police had been a
bit more reliable!"

"Oh!" Mrs. Maldon breathed happily. "I knew it couldn't be Mr. Snow's
fault. I felt sure of that. I'm so glad."