“For a month! It is frightful to think of it,” shrieked Nanon. She invited Mr. Thorburn to rest and refresh himself--to dine, to sleep, to make the place his home as long as he pleased. M. de Bergerac had left instructions to that effect. But the disappointment had been too bitter. Eustace could not endure to remain an hour in the house which had been so dear to him, now that the goddess who had glorified it dwelt there no longer. He declared that he had particular business to do in London, and must return thither immediately. He was eager to arrange for the Scottish expedition which had been planned by himself and his uncle--eager to start for the country to which Helen was gone, as if he would thereby be nearer her. Before bidding old Nanon good-day, he made a final effort to extort from her some information. “Surely M. de Bergerac must have left you some written address,” he said, “in the event of your having occasion to write to him?” “No, sir; if I wanted to write, I was to give my letter to Mr. Jerningham’s steward; that was all. They will be going from place to place, you see, sir. It is not one place they go to see, but many.” With this answer Eustace was compelled to be satisfied. He could not push his curiosity so far as to go to Mr. Jerningham’s steward, and ask him for his master’s whereabouts. And again, what benefit could it have been to him to know where Helen had gone? He had no right to follow her. He hastened back to London, and to Great Ormond Street, where he was doomed to wait three dreary hours, turning over his Uncle Dan’s books, before that individual made his appearance, somewhat flushed from dining, and jovial of manner, but in nowise the worse for his dinner and wine. “I have been dining in St. James’s Street, with Joyce of the _Hermes_, and Farquhar of the _Zeus_,” he said. “A thousand welcomes, dearest boy! And so you come straight from the station to find your faithful old Daniel? Such a token of affection touches this tough old heart.” “Not straight from the station, Uncle Dan,” the young man answered, with a guilty air. “I have been down to Berkshire. M. de Bergerac and his daughter have started for Scotland with Mr. Jerningham.” “What takes them to Scotland in such company?” “Mr. Jerningham has just succeeded to an estate in the north; that is all I could discover from the servants at the cottage. This Scottish expedition must be quite a new idea, for there was no allusion to it in M. de Bergerac’s last letter to me.” “Strange!” “And now, Uncle Dan, I want you to keep your promise, and start for your Highland holiday with me.” “What! we are to rush post-haste for the Highlands, in search of your Helen?” “No; on a more solemn search than that.” “Alas, poor lad! On that one subject you are madder than Prince Hamlet. Every one has his craze. But I pledged myself to be your companion, and I must keep my promise. You are really bent upon going over the ground on which that sad drama was enacted?”