Others hinted that Pasco Pepperill was the gainer by the fire, and that he had had a finger in setting the stores alight. It was suspicious that he had sent away his wife, and had gone away with his niece just before the conflagration broke out. There was an ugly rumour afloat, that he had returned secretly to the Cellars, and had there met and quarrelled with his brother-in-law. This rumour was constructed out of the reported admission of Kate, and something, it was believed, that the schoolmaster had said. But neither of these, on being interrogated by the inquisitive, would say a word. The schoolmaster, with the cheek of a stuck-up creature, had answered all inquiries with the question, “Who has authorised you to catechise me? If the matter is brought into court, I will say what little I know on oath before the magistrate. I will say nothing to self-constituted inquisitors.” Whenever this answer of the schoolmaster was repeated, and it was so a hundred times in the course of a week, it never failed to elicit an indignant remark, generally couched thus: “Them schoolmasters want setting down. They’re owdacious cocky monkeys. But they’re a low lot’they must be taught their place, which is under our heels. They gives theirselves airs, as if they was parsons and knew everything, but they lives on our voluntary subscriptions, and unless they come to eat humble-pie, we’ll withdraw our farthing-in-the-pound rate. ’Tisn’t for our pleasure or profit they exist, but just because of a fad o’ the pass’n. Mr. Puddicombe was the man for us. Him we could respect. And now they sez that Mr. Puddicombe is compoging a Tee-dum which will cut out even Jackson.” The minds and hearts of Kitty and her aunt were sensibly relieved. The girl had watched the exploration of the cinder heaps with quivering nerves and brooding fear. What might not each spade disclose? Into what an object of horror might not her poor father be reduced? But, as the floor of the warehouse was cleared, and every mass of ash turned over, and nothing revealed, her heart swelled, and the blood began again to pulsate in her arteries. She covered her face with her hands, and lifted her heart half in thanksgiving and half in prayer. And yet, what had become of him? How was it that, if he were alive, he had given no signs of life? It was ascertained that Jason Quarm had not crossed the estuary, either by the bridge or by boat, at Shaldon. It was inconceivable that he had traced the creek up to its head, below Newton Abbot, to cross the water there, as there was no path along the water-side, and he must have come into the road and made such a circuit as was not possible for a man in his crippled condition.