"Gone, nobody knows how! Come up and see."
She dragged me after her into our young lady's sitting-room, which
opened into her bedroom. There, on the threshold of her bedroom door,
stood Miss Rachel, almost as white in the face as the white dressing-gown
that clothed her. There also stood the two doors of the Indian cabinet,
wide open. One, of the drawers inside was pulled out as far as it would
go.
"Look!" says Penelope. "I myself saw Miss Rachel put the Diamond into
that drawer last night." I went to the cabinet. The drawer was empty.
"Is this true, miss?" I asked.
With a look that was not like herself, with a voice that was not like
her own, Miss Rachel answered as my daughter had answered: "The Diamond
is gone!" Having said those words, she withdrew into her bedroom, and
shut and locked the door.
Before we knew which way to turn next, my lady came in, hearing my voice
in her daughter's sitting-room, and wondering what had happened. The news
of the loss of the Diamond seemed to petrify her. She went straight to
Miss Rachel's bedroom, and insisted on being admitted. Miss Rachel let
here in.
The alarm, running through the house like fire, caught the two gentlemen
next.
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