"'Tis strange matter," said the priest severely, "that a gentleman of means and station, with his sister, and daughter, and servant, could disappear thus utterly, and none know thereof!" "It is, Father, in very deed," replied Roger sympathisingly. "I pray you, Hall, make full inquiry at the works, and give me to wit if aught be known thereof. Remember, you are somewhat under a cloud from your near kinship to Alice Benden, and diligence in this matter may do you a good turn with holy Church." "Sir, I will make inquiry at the works," was the answer, which did not convey Roger's intention to make no use of the inquiries that could damage his master, nor his settled conviction that no information was to be had. The only person at all likely to know more than himself was the cashier at the works, since he lived between Cranbrook and Primrose Croft, and Roger carefully timed his inquiries so as not to include him. The result was what he expected--no one could tell him anything. He quickly and diligently communicated this interesting fact to the priest's servant, his master not being at home; and Mr Bastian was more puzzled than ever. The nine days' wonder gradually died down. On the Thursday evening Mr Justice Roberts came home, and was met by the news of his brother's disappearance, with his family. He was so astonished that he sat open-mouthed, knife and spoon in hand, while his favourite dish of broiled fowl grew cold, until he had heard all that Martha had to tell him. Supper was no sooner over, than off he set to Primrose Croft. "Well, Madge, old woman!" said he to the old housekeeper, who had once been his nurse, "this is strange matter, surely! Is all true that Martha tells me? Be all they gone, and none wist how nor whither?" "Come in, and sit you down by the fire, Master Anthony," said Margery, in whose heart was a very soft spot for her sometime nursling, "and I'll tell you all I know. Here's the master's keys, they'll maybe be safer in your hands than mine; he didn't leave 'em wi' me, but I went round the house and picked 'em all up, and locked everything away from them prying maids and that young jackanapes of a Dickon. Some he must ha' took with him; but he's left the key of the old press, look you, and that label hanging from it." The Justice looked at the label, and saw his own name written in his brother's writing. "Ha! maybe he would have me open the press and search for somewhat. Let us go to his closet, Madge. Thou canst tell me the rest there, while I see what this meaneth." "There's scarce any rest to tell, Mr Anthony; only they are all gone-- Master, and Mistress Grena, and Mistress Gertrude, and Osmund, and bay Philbert, and the black mare, and old Jack." "What, Jack gone belike! Dear heart alive! Why, Madge, that hath little look of coming again." "It hasn't, Mr Anthony; and one of Mistress Gertrude's boxes, that she keeps her gems in, lieth open and empty in her chamber."