"Edina goes to-morrow," he resumed. "She intends to be back in a week's time; but I give her a day or two longer, for I know how unwilling they always are at Spring Lawn to let her come away. After that, I wind up with the doctor, and go to London. And it will not be very long then, Daisy, before I return to claim you. I shall soon get settled, once I am on the spot and looking out: the grass will not grow under my feet. It won't take above a week or two." How sanguine he was! Not a shadow of doubt rested on his mind that the "week or two" would see him well established. Daisy did not answer. Had Frank chanced to turn his head as they walked, he would have seen how white her face was. It was a simple question that she wished to ask. And yet, she could not ask it. Her dry and quivering lips refused to frame the words. "Were you so very intimate with Rosaline Bell?--and did you really love her?" Easy words they seemed to say; but Daisy could not get them out in her terrible emotion. And so, they parted, and she had not spoken. For the hour was late already, and she feared to remain out longer. And Frank went home unsuspecting and unconscious. It was on the following morning that certain rumours were afloat in Trennach. They had arisen the previous day: at least, two or three people professed to have then heard them. The miners congregated in groups to discuss the news; Float the chemist and other tradesmen stood at their shop-doors, exchanging words on the subject with the passers-by. It was said that Josiah Bell was lying in the Bottomless Shaft. Instead of having walked off in some mysterious manner, to return some day as mysteriously--as his wife believed--he was lying dead in that deep pit on the Bare Plain. But--whence arose these rumours? what was their foundation? No one could tell. Just as other unaccountable rumours that float about us and are whispered from one to another in daily intercourse, it seemed that none could trace their source. "They say so." Yes, but who are "they"? This same morning was the morning of Edina's departure for the neighbourhood of Bath. Frank was about to drive her to the railway-station. The doctor's gig was already at the door, the small trunk strapped on behind: for she never encumbered herself with much luggage. Frank was in the surgery, busying himself until she appeared, and talking with his uncle, when the door opened, and Ross the overseer came in. He had not been well lately, and came occasionally to the surgery for advice. "Have you heard this new tale they've got hold of now, doctor?" asked he, whilst Dr. Raynor was questioning him about his symptoms. "It's a queer one." "I have heard no tale," said the doctor. "What is it?" "That the missing man is lying at the bottom of the old shaft on the Plain." "What missing man?" "Josiah Bell." A moment's startled pause; a rush of red to his brow; and then Frank spoke up hastily. "What an utter absurdity! Who says so?"