That's evident."
"Is it?" snarled Batchgrew. "Look here, miss, and you, young Fores, I
didn't make much o' this this morning, because I thought th' money 'ud
happen be found. But seeing as it isn't, and _as_ we're talking
about it, what time was the rumpus last night?"
"What time?" Rachel muttered. "What time was it, Mr. Fores?"
"I dun'no'," said Louis. "Perhaps the doctor would know."
"Oh!" said Rachel, "Mrs. Tams said the hall clock had stopped; that
must have been when Mrs. Maldon knocked up against it."
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.
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