"My Lord, sure I am telling your Lordship as plain as I can speak, that there was no sign of man, or horse, or carriage, or any thing else, even to the value of a wheel-barrow, to leave track or trace in the finest gravel round all Henbury. There wasn't a sign even of her light footsteps, so much as would crush down a daisy's head, across the fields, to tell us which way she went; and, as the ignorant people say, it was as much like Fairies' work as any thing that ever came to pass. The only one thing that with all our spelling and putting together, we could remark was, that latterly she grew timoursome about taking long walks, as she used to do; and Matthew the gardener observed one day that she came hastily into the shrubbery gate, looking pale, as if she was frightened; but that was long ago before your lordship returned, and we concluded that the cattle might have startled her, though she said nothing, only did not go out of the grounds again." "Call Rachel, call Rachel. Bring Ben Tyrrell. Where is my mother? I will question every one; make haste." "My Lord, Rachel is no longer here; she quitted the service on the very day that Miss Zoé left the house, and went to farmer Wilson's, her brother; and here is my Lady herself coming to look for you." Lady Marchdale entered the room with a reproachful air, and upbraided her son with his want of affection. "I have," said she, "been calling you every where. Is this the way in which you meet me after such an absence?" "What have you done with Zorilda?" answered Lord Hautonville, with a savage countenance, as he looked sternly at his mother. "I know nothing of the ungrateful girl," replied Lady Marchdale; "she has taken herself out of my protection, and proved herself unworthy of my regard." "Madam," answered her son, "we part this moment, and for ever, if you conceal a single tittle of all you know. Why did you imprison her? Where is she gone? She is mine, and I will follow her. Nothing shall prevail upon me to give her up; and you will not accomplish any end by keeping me in the dark. Tell me all, I beg; I _demand_ that you do not deceive me. The most fatal consequences may result from this affair; consequences which you little anticipate." Terrified out of her senses, Lady Marchdale now began to repent the cruel part which she had acted; and told her son, without reserve, all that she had to tell. Her proposal to Zorilda to reject his suit, and bind herself by a written promise never to ally herself with the family of Hartland; Zorilda's refusal--her subsequent imprisonment--farewell note, and mysterious departure, were all detailed with an effort at amplification, which seemed as if designed to bury the recollection of past unkindness and neglect towards an amiable orphan, in the importance and display of the present statement.