The Squire did not quite catch the words. She and he were at cross-purposes. "We have but now left your house, my dear," he continued. "Your aunt does not expect you back to-day; she thought you would stay at Worcester till Saturday." Ellin smiled shyly. "Have you seen him?" she asked in the same soft whisper. "Seen whom, my dear?" "Mr. Brook." "Mr. Brook! Do you mean _William_ Brook? He is not back, is he?" "Yes, he is back," she answered. "I thought you might have seen him: you spoke of the return of the truant." "Why, child, I meant you," explained the Squire. "Nobody else. Who says William Brook is back?" "Oh, I say it," returned Ellin, her cheeks all rosy dimples. "He reached Worcester yesterday." "And where is he now?" cried the Squire, feeling a little at sea. "He is here, at Timberdale," answered Ellin. "Mr. St. George drove him home last night." "There!" cried Tod with startling emphasis. "There, father, please not to disparage my sight any more." Well, what do you think of this for another complication? It took me aback. The Squire rubbed his face, and stared. "My dear, just let us understand how the land lies," said he, putting his hand on Ellin's shoulder. "Do you say that William Brook reached Worcester yesterday on his return, and that St. George drove him home here at night?" "Yes," replied Ellin. "Why should you doubt it? It is true." "Well, we thought St. George did drive him home," was the Squire's answer, staring into her face; "we passed his gig in Dip Lane and thought that it was Brook that he had with him. But St. George denies this. He says it was not Brook; that he has not seen Brook, does not know he has come home; he says the man he had with him was a stranger, to whom he was giving a lift." Ellin looked grave for a moment; then the smiles broke out again. "St. George must have been joking," she cried; "he cannot mean it. He happened to be at Worcester Station yesterday when Mr. Brook arrived by the Birmingham train: we suppose he then offered to drive him home. Any way, he did do it." "But St. George denied that he did, Ellin," I said. "He will not deny it to me, Johnny. Gregory West, returning from a visit to some client at Spetchley, met them in the gig together." The Squire listened as a man dazed. "I can't make head or tail of it," cried he. "What does St. George mean by denying that he brought Brook? And where _is_ Brook?" "Has no one seen him?" questioned Ellin. "Not a soul, apparently. Ellin, my girl," added the Squire, "we will walk back with you to your father's, and get this cleared up. Come along, boys." So back we went to turn the tables upon St. George, Tod in a rapture of gratification. You might have thought he was treading upon eggs. We had it out this time in Mr. Delorane's private office; the Squire walked straight into it. Not but that "having it out" must be regarded as a figure of speech, for elucidation seemed farther off than before, and the complications greater.