“Oh, no, sir! He’s took Margery with him; and right sorry are we to part with her, I can tell you. She were just a sweet lass. Have you heard that Sir Hubert and my lady ain’t coming home, after all, sir? Perhaps that’s why Margery went, ’cos she belongs like to her ladyship--don’t she, sir?” Stuart murmured a few vague words in reply, and then passed on. “Good-arternoon,” said Carter; and then, as he watched the young man mount the hill, he muttered: “That there fall ain’t done the young squire no good; he looks the ghost of hisself.” Vane sat silent as Stuart came toward her; even her cold, calculating heart was touched at the sight of his distress. He took his seat and sunk back against the cushions, looking deathly pale and worn. Vane gathered the reins together, and prepared to turn back to the castle; but Stuart stopped her. “Drive to Chesterham,” he said, in a quiet tone. “I must find out if they went to London.” Without a word she did as he wished, and in silence they sped along the lanes to the town. Vane was by no means comfortable during the drive, for she was beset by disagreeable thoughts. What if the girl, after all, had gone to London only to bid farewell to her adopted father? What more likely? Would she not have taken leave of the neighbors and villagers had she started for so long a journey? What if, on their arrival at Chesterham, they came face to face with her? Vane grew cold and faint at the thought not only of the humiliation, but of such a termination to all her scheming. She set her teeth, and her face grew paler as she pictured his disgust when he learned the truth. It was so hasty, so strange a flight, that Vane, as she sat absorbed in deep thought, could not but feel the chances were very much against her. Stuart did not notice his cousin; he realized only that Margery was gone, his sweet love vanished. The joy of life for him was dead, and his heart was heavy with its pain. Hope now and then revived, but the vague presentiment that had hung over him since first he had learned the news crushed it as it was born. As they approached Chesterham, Vane began to tremble, and the hands grasping the reins shook with fear. “Draw up for a few minutes, Vane,” Stuart said; “here is Bright--perhaps he can tell us something. Andrews said it was through his instrumentality that Morris had gone.” Vane checked the ponies and leaned back, feeling quite unnerved from the sudden reaction. “Ah, Bright, you are the very man that I want to see,” exclaimed Stuart, as the farmer rode up, “for you can tell me better than any one what I want to know.” “I shall be glad to oblige you, Mr. Stuart,” returned Bright, turning an anxious face to the young man. “Perhaps you’ve heard about my boy Robert?” he added, full of his own troubles. “No, I have not. Is anything the matter with him?” asked Stuart, his sympathy at once enlisted.