The porter came out to her. She said she wished to see Mr. Little. The porter stared: the people within hearing left off talking, and stared too, at her, and then at one another. At last the porter found his voice. “Mr. Little! why, we can't find him anywhere, dead or alive.” Just then Ransome came out, and, seeing Miss Carden, gave a start, and looked much concerned. Grace noticed this look, and her own face began to fill with surprise, and then with alarm. “Not to be found!” she faltered. She did not know Mr. Ransome, but he knew her; and he came to the carriage-window and said, in a low voice, “Miss Carden, I am the chief-constable. I would advise you to return home. The fact is, there has been an explosion here, and a young woman nearly killed.” “Poor creature! But Mr. Little! Oh, sir! Oh, sir!” “We can't find him,” said Ransome, solemnly: “and we fear--we sadly fear--” Grace uttered a low cry, and then sat trembling. Ransome tried to console her; said it was just possible he might have not slept in the works. The porter shook his head. Grace sprung from the carriage. “Show me the place,” said she, hoarsely. Ransome demurred. “It is an ugly sight for any one to see.” “Who has a better right to see it than I? I shall find him if he is there. Give me your arm: I have heard him speak of you.” Then Ransome yielded reluctantly, and took her to the place. He showed her Henry's room, all rent and mutilated. She shuddered, and, covering her face with her hands, leaned half fainting against her conductor; but soon she shook this off, and became inspired with strange energy, though her face was like marble. She drew him, indeed almost dragged him, hither and thither, questioning him, and listening to everybody's conjectures; for there were loud groups here of work-people and towns-people. Some thought he was buried under the great chimney in the river, others intimated plainly their fear that he was blown to atoms. At each suggestion Grace Carden's whole body winced and quivered as if the words were sword cuts, but she would not be persuaded to retire. “No, no,” she cried, “amongst so many, some one will guess right. I'll hear all they think, if I die on the spot: die! What is life to me now? Ah! what is that woman saying?” And she hurried Ransome toward a work-woman who was haranguing several of her comrades. The woman saw Ransome coming toward her with a strange lady. “Ah!” said she, “here's the constable. Mr. Ransome, will ye tell me where you found the lass, yesternight?” “She was lying on that heap of bricks: I marked the place with two pieces of chalk; ay, here they are; her head lay here, and her feet here.” “Well, then,” said the woman, “he will not be far from that place. You clear away those bricks and rubbish, and you will find him underneath. She was his sweetheart, that is well known here; and he was safe to be beside her when the place was blown up.”