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Rh as it was wont to be, and every ghostly article of furniture in its customary place. The iron heart of the old grim clock undisturbed by all the noise without, still beat heavily within its dusty case, the tottering presses slunk from the sight as usual in their melancholy corners, the echoes of footsteps returned the same dreary sound; the long-legged spider paused in his nimble run, and scared by the sight of men in that his dull domain, hung motionless upon the wall counterfeiting death until they should have passed him by.

From cellar to garret went the two usurers opening every creaking door and looking into every deserted room. But no Peg was there. At last they sat them down in the apartment which Arthur Gride usually inhabited, to rest after their search.

"The hag is out on some preparation for your wedding festivities, I suppose," said Ralph preparing to depart. "See here. I destroy the bond; we shall never need it now."

Gride who had been peering narrowly about the room fell at that moment upon his knees before a large chest, and uttered a terrible yell.

"How now?" said Ralph looking sternly round. "Robbed! robbed!" screamed Arthur Gride.

"Robbed! of money?"

"No, no, no. Worse, far worse."

"Of what then?" demanded Ralph.

"Worse than money, worse than money!" cried the old man, casting the papers out of the chest, like some beast tearing up the earth. "She had better have stolen money—all my money—I haven't much. She had better have made me a beggar, than have done this!"

"Done what?" said Ralph. "Done what, you devil's dotard?"

Still Gride made no answer, but tore and scratched among the papers, and yelled and screeched like a fiend in torment.

"There is something missing, you say," said Ralph, shaking him furiously by the collar. "What is it?"

"Papers, deeds. I am a ruined man—lost—lost!I am robbed, I am ruined. She saw me reading it—reading it of late.—I did very often.—She watched me—saw me put it in the box that fitted into this—the box is gone—she has stolen it.—Damnation seize her, she has robbed me!"

"Of what!" cried Ralph, on whom a sudden light appeared to break, for his eyes flashed and his frame trembled with agitation as he clutched Gride by his bony arm. "Of what?"

"She don't know what it is; she can't read!" shrieked Gride, not heeding the inquiry. "There's only one way in which money can be made of it, and that is by taking it to her. Somebody will read it for her and tell her what to do. She and her accomplice will get money for it and be let off besides; they'll make a merit of it—say they found it—knew it—and be evidence against me. The only person it will fall upon is me—me—me!"

"Patience!" said Ralph, clutching him still tighter and eyeing him with a sidelong look, so fixed and eager as sufficiently to denote that he had some hidden purpose in what he was about to say. "Hear reason.