"Neither has Chumbley," said the Resident, uneasily. "Neither has Chumbley," assented Mr Perowne. "A man who, beneath his languid indifference, is the soul of honour," said the Resident; and he led the way to the boat by which Mr Perowne had come across. The men were lying in the bottom asleep; but they roused up directly as the two gentlemen entered and were rowed to the landing-stage at the foot of Mr Perowne's garden, where the swift stream was lapping the stones placed to keep it from washing the lawn away. As they were rowed across Neil Harley found himself looking thoughtfully down into the water time after time, and a curious shuddering sensation came upon him, one which he strove hard to cast off. He could not, he would not believe it possible, he told himself; but in spite of his efforts, and the mastery he generally had over self, the thought would come. They found the servants ready with the answer that nothing had been seen of their young mistress, though they had continued searching ever since their master had gone away. "Shall we look round ourselves?" said Mr Perowne. "No, if you say the house has been searched." "I have been in every room myself." "Then let us go on to the doctor's. We may find Hilton and Chumbley there, and they perhaps can throw some light upon the matter." Mr Perowne bowed, and they hurried off to the doctor's pretty bungalow, a short distance away. "They are not here, unless they are stopping to sleep." "How do you know?" "There is no light." All the same the Resident tapped sharply at the door, and his summons was followed by a thump on the floor, as if someone had leaped out of bed. The next moment a window was thrown open, and the doctor's voice was heard. "Now then: who's ill?" "Don't be alarmed, doctor," said the Resident. "Oh, it's you, Harley. Had too much supper?" "No, no. Tell me quickly. Did Hilton and Chumbley come home with you?" "No; they went away ever so long before." "Did you see them go?" "No. Can't say I did." "They have not been back to their quarters." "Stopped to have a cigar somewhere." "Perhaps so; but tell me, when did you see Hilton last?" "I don't know. Oh, yes, I do. He went down towards the river, with a cigar in his mouth." "When did you see my daughter?" said Mr Perowne. "Oh! are you there, Perowne? Well, I don't know. Not for an hour before we came away." "An hour and a half," said Mrs Bolter's voice. "We didn't see her when we came away." "Did she go away with anyone, Mrs Bolter?" exclaimed Perowne, eagerly. "No; I saw her walk towards the house by herself. I'll get up and dress directly. Perhaps I can do some good. The poor girl has been overcome by the heat, Bolter, and fainted away somewhere in the grounds. We'll both dress and come on directly, Mr Perowne. Have the shrubberies searched again. Henry, go and rouse up Arthur; he may be useful."