“It is very strange, and I cannot understand how he is not there. He must have been at Coombe just before the fire broke out. I know he passed along the road. Where are the donkey and cart?” “They are at the Cellars,” answered Jan. “Then my father must be there. He cannot be far off. He cannot get about easily, as he is so lame.” “I suppose he must be somewhere,” was the wise observation of Pooke. “Hasn’t my aunt seen him?” “No, Kitty.” “Nor anyone.” Jan hesitated, and presently said’ “I did hear something about the parson having spoke with her, but I don’t know the rights of it.” “He must be there. He cannot be far off. We shall see him when we arrive. I daresay he had some business that took him off; but if he heard of the fire, he would come back at once. He will be a loser by it as well as my uncle.” “Folk say there will be no loss, as Mr. Pepperill insured so terrible heavy. They do tell that he has insured for two thousand pounds, and that only about fifty pounds worth of goods is burnt.” Kate shrank together. Rose touched Pooke significantly to hold his tongue. After that Kitty remained very silent. A feeling of unrest took possession of her, even of alarm, at some impending catastrophe. That her uncle had been in difficulty she knew. That he was in want of money to pay for the timber before he could realise on it, and to meet his dishonoured bill for the wool, she knew. A chill ran through her veins. After a long period of silence Rose said to her’ “Kitty, is it true that you and the schoolmaster went to old Mr. Puddicombe about being engaged?” “Yes,” answered the girl addressed. “He took it as a mark of proper respect?” “Yes.” “Jan, dear,” said Rose, touching Pooke, “as soon as we get to Coombe, you and I will go and call on Mr. Puddicombe. It will please him. He was the first who heard about your engagement, Kitty?” “Not quite that’we told Mr. Fielding.” “Oh, the parson! But everyone respects Mr. Puddicombe _so_ much, that I think Jan and I will go to him first. You know, Kitty, we have settled it between us’I mean, Jan and I’on our way to Brimpts, and Mr. Puddicombe ought to know.” CHAPTER XLI TAKING SHAPE It was evening when Kate was driven up to the Cellars, yet not so dark but that she could see the donkey in the paddock, and dark enough to make the glow of the still smoking heap visible, here and there, in red seams and yellow sparks. “There is Neddy,” exclaimed Kate. “My father must be here.” As she was descending from the cart, she said, “Why, he may have crossed the Teign in the boat.” “No, Kitty,” answered Jan; “I don’t think that.” “Why not?” Pooke was afraid of answering lest he should involve himself; and Rose had jumped down at the mill, and so was not there to prevent him from committing an error.