I began to wonder if he had changed his mind about marrying, and was actually going to ask me for Constantia's hand. This made me feel more "Head of the House" than ever. But it was something quite different, and Mr. Ablethorpe brought me down to earth again with a whop, as if I had fallen from the store rafters. "I have been able to arrange about the three poor creatures, Honorine, Camilla, and Sidonia Orrin. They will be in safety with the Good Sisters of the Weak-minded at Thorsby. There is, therefore, no longer any object in withholding from you my confidence. I am morally certain that carrier Harry Foster has been foully murdered, and his body concealed. Further, my dear, dear boy, I fear that I cannot now give you much hope of a different fate for your father----" "There I differ from you," said I stoutly. "I am glad to hear it," he said quietly; "but I should like to know the reason of your confidence." "Because of the message; because my father is so strong and brave; and because--because I am certain he is not dead! And then Elsie!" He lifted his hand as if to pray me not to go into that question. At this I fired up. "I have heard many things," he began; "a man in my position does!" "Never anything against Elsie!" I was heated, and shouted. "Certainly not! Though of another communion she has always----" "Well, then, say no more"--I stamped my foot--"she has suffered the same fate as my father. That accursed house has something to do with it. As yet I do not know what. But something! She has not gone away from Breckonside without letting her friends know. I will not listen to that from you or any other man, Mr. Ablethorpe!" "You will not have to listen to it," said he gently, clapping me meanwhile on the far shoulder. "You are a good fellow, Joe, and I am proud to count myself among your friends. You have a sort of sneaking liking for the Old Hayfork, haven't you, Joe?" That was the way he spoke. A fellow one couldn't be waxy with long. I told him Yes. And I think he knew how much I liked him by what it cost me to get it out. "Yes, Joe, we do very well," he went on, "and I dare say you have not forgotten the time I sent you up the drain pipe, and the little rings you found?" The matter had never wholly slipped my memory, though, of course, the losing of my father and Elsie one after the other--mystery piled on mystery, as it were--had made me think less often about it. I told him so. "Well," said he, "I know more about it now, though--as you say--not yet all. It is necessary to wait a little before I have all the strings in my hands. This, however, I will tell you. The little rings you found were those of the mail bags which were stolen out of Harry Foster's cart! They had been half fused in a furnace and afterwards hidden in the place where you found them."