65 A Heart Is Stolen by Barbara Cartland Read Free Book Online Page A

through the motions of looking to see what was left inside, knowing the answer before he did so.
    “Curse it!” he shouted out furiously. “They have taken every one of my father’s snuffboxes!”
    “I am sorry, Justin,” Anthony said sympathetically.
    “We ought to have done something – we ought to have stopped them.”
    “That is what I thought,” Anthony agreed, “but quite frankly I did not like the look of that fellow’s pistols. I am quite prepared to believe that he is the crack shot he boasted of being.”
    The Marquis with difficulty prevented himself from cursing the highwayman with every oath he had ever learned in the Army. At the same time his dignity told him that there was no point in sinking to the level of the robbers, even if this one was different.
    Later in the drawing room they went over the man’s points for future identification.
    “I suppose you could say he was a gentleman,” Anthony said. “He spoke like one.”
    “He had a peculiarly low voice that I would recognise again,” the Marquis added.
    “So should I,” Anthony agreed. “He was not very tall, but very slim and athletic in the way he moved and he was well dressed.”
    “Dammit, that might apply to hundreds of men,” the Marquis said. “The only real clue we have to his identity is that his voice was deeper than most people’s.”
    “I have thought of something else,” Anthony remarked.
    “What is that?”
    “He must have known the layout of the house. While one of his men cleared the snuffboxes out of the library, the other must have moved into the pantry almost as soon as the servants had left for their own supper. At least I imagine that is what they were having.”
    The Marquis nodded.
    “At Veryan they dine as soon as we have finished and I know that my chef there always lets the footmen have what he calls ‘the left-overs’, which they appreciate.”
    “That proves my point, Justin. They knew that there would be nobody in the pantry and they cleared out the snuffboxes and timed to do so exactly as their chief walked in through the window, knowing that it would be open.”
    “You certainly have a point there,” the Marquis concurred reflectively. “I will tell you something else.”
    “What is that?”
    “As their horses were leaving, they sounded fresh. I can always tell if a horse has been ridden a long way, because he sounds not exactly tired, but a little heavy. I would not mind betting those horses had not come far.”
    “That narrows the field considerably.” Anthony yawned.
    “Highwaymen or no highwaymen, unless they have taken my bed, I want to go to sleep.”
    “Then that is what we shall do,” the Marquis agreed. “There is no point in rousing the household tonight. It will mean hours of talk and speculation, and I don’t suppose that Markham can tell us any more than we can tell him.”
    “I could not stand it,” Anthony yawned. “For God’s sake let’s leave it until tomorrow.”
    “We will do that,” the Marquis agreed, “and now I think of it I am as tired as you must be.”
    At the same time, after he had told Hawkins what had happened as he helped him undress, it was a long time before he fell asleep.
    *
    The next morning, immediately after breakfast the Marquis sent for his agent.
    Mr. Markham had already been informed as to what had happened the night before by other members of the household who had been regaled by Hawkins.
    “I cannot believe it, my Lord!” the elderly man said unhappily, wringing his hands in anguish. “The gold ship by which his late Lordship set so much store and the snuffboxes!”
    “A very heavy loss where I am concerned,” the Marquis said. “Had you any idea there were villains lurking in the neighbourhood?”
    “No, my Lord, but, of course, we are very isolated here at Heathcliffe and sufficient, as you might say, unto ourselves.”
    “Who are our nearest neighbours?”
    “There are not many, my Lord. Colonel Lloyd – you may