“She has gone,” she said, in answer to my unspoken question. “She must have gone some time in the night. The man at the inn stable drove her to the depot at Haddington on Hill. She took the early train for London. That is all we know.” CHAPTER XIII In Which Hephzy and I Agree to Live for Each Other I shall condense the record of that day as much as possible. I should omit it altogether, if I could. We tried to trace her, of course. That is, I tried and Hephzy did not dissuade me, although she realized, I am sure, the hopelessness of the quest. Frances had left the rectory very early in the morning. The hostler at the inn had been much surprised to find her awaiting him when he came down to the yard at five o'clock. She was obliged to go to London, she said, and must take the very first train: Would he drive her to Haddington on Hill at once? He did so--probably she had offered him a great deal more than the regular fare--and she had taken the train. Questioning the hostler, who was a surly, uncommunicative lout, resulted in my learning very little in addition to this. The young lady seemed about as usual, so far as he could see. She might 'ave been a bit nervous, impatient like, but he attributed that to her anxiety to make the train. Yes, she had a bag with her, but no other luggage. No, she didn't talk on the way to the station: Why should she? He wasn't the man to ask a lady questions about what wasn't his affair. She minded her own business and he minded his. No, he didn't know nothin' more about it. What was I a-pumpin' him for, anyway? I gave up the “pumping” and hurried back to the rectory. There Hephzy told me a few additional facts. Frances had taken with her only the barest necessities, for the most part those which she had when she came to us. Her new frocks, those which she had bought with what she considered her money, she had left behind. All the presents which we had given her were in her room, or so we thought at the time. As she came, so she had gone, and the thought that she had gone, that I should never see her again, was driving me insane. And like an insane man I must have behaved, at first. The things I did and said, and the way in which I treated Hephzy shame me now, as I remember them. I was going to London at once. I would find her and bring her back. I would seek help from the police, I would employ detectives, I would do anything--everything. She was almost without money; so far as I knew without friends. What would she do? What would become of her? I must find her. I must bring her back.