“It seems,” said Sir Amyas sadly, “that something the dear girl said gave colour to the charge of having caused the fire, and that my mother in her first passion threatened her with the constable!” “My poor Aurelia! that might well scare her,” cried Betty: “but how could it be?” “They say she spoke of using something her sister had given her to discover what the mystery was that alarmed her.” “Ah! that gunpowder trick of Mr. Arden’s--I always hated it!” exclaimed Betty. “Gunpowder indeed!” growled the old soldier. “Well, if ever there’s mischief among the children, Harriet is always at the bottom of it. I hope Mr. Belamour made her confess if she had a hand in it.” “I believe he did,” said Sir Amyas. “Just like her to set the match to the train and then run away,” said the Major. “Still, sir,” said Betty, her womanhood roused to defence, “though I am angered and grieved enough that Harriet should have left Aurelia to face the consequences of the act she instigated, I must confess that even by Sir Amyas’s own showing, if he will allow me to say so, my sisters were justified in wishing to understand the truth.” “That is what my uncle tells me,” said the baronet. “He declares that if I had attended to his stipulations, restrained my fervour, or kept my distance, there would have been neither suspicion nor alarm. As if I had not restrained myself!” “Ay, I dare say,” said the Major, a little amused. “Well, sir, what could a man do with most bewitching creature in the world, his own wife, too, on the next chair to him?” There was a simplicity about the stripling--for he was hardly more--which forced them to forgive him; besides, they were touched by his paleness and fatigue. His own man--a respectable elderly servant whom the Major recollected waiting on Sir Jovian--came to beg that his honour would sit up no longer, as he had been travelling since six in the morning, and was quite worn out. Indeed, so it proved; for when the Major and Betty not only promised to come with him on the search the next day, but bade him a kind affectionate good-night, the poor lad, all unused to kindness, fairly burst into tears, which all his dawning manhood could not restrain. CHAPTER XXVI. THE TRACES. Oh, if I were an eagle to soar into the sky, I’d gaze around with piercing eye when I my love might spy. The second-best coach, which resided at Bowstead, the same which had carried Aurelia off from Knightsbridge, had brought Sir Amyas Belamour to Carminster--an effeminate proceeding of which he was rather ashamed, though clearly he could not have ridden, and he had hoped to have brought his bride back in it.