They carried the candle to every nook and corner of the cloisters, no result arising from it. Hamish and Tom climbed over and searched the burial-ground. He was not there. No signs, for their keen eyes, or for any others, remained of the night’s work: the college boys were cautious. A couple of matches, half-burnt, lay on the ground in the north quadrangle, but they told nothing. The boys were often lighting matches, as the master knew. “I really think you must be mistaken in supposing Charles’s absence has to do with this trick played upon old Ketch--whatever it may have been,” he observed. “It does not appear that the boys have been in the cloisters. Had any of them been locked in here, here they would be still.” There was no denying it, and they left the cloisters and closed them. The keys were conveyed to Ketch, who had to get out of bed again to receive them, which he did with a great amount of wrath. Mr. Pye thought it would be proved that Charles must be at the house of one of the boys, carelessness or accident having detained him. And then he wished them good night and went home. Completely at a loss were they. Hamish, ever hopeful, thought Charles had perhaps returned home: and they bent their steps thither. No, no; Constance, Arthur, and curious Sarah, were all outside, looking every way. Constance was too agitated to remain indoors. Arthur had just returned home. He had been to the houses of some of the college boys, those with whom Charles was most intimate, but could obtain no tidings of him. Constance burst into tears. She grew excessively alarmed, when Judy mentioned the doubt lest he had been shut in the cloisters. “But that fear is done away with,” said Hamish. “We have searched them thoroughly. Do not distress yourself, Constance.” “There goes midnight!” exclaimed Judy. “Ugh!” shivered Sarah. “I feel just as if somebody was walking over my grave, Judith.” “If they were walking over you, it mightn’t be amiss,” reprimanded Judith. “Don’t talk such stuff as that, girl, in the young mistress’s ears.” The words died away into silence, and they stood listening to the strokes of the deep-toned cathedral bell. With the last, twelve, another day had dawned upon the world. What would it bring forth for them? “I shall go to the police-station,” said Hamish. “Constance, my dear, you had better not remain outside. Go indoors.” It was well to say “Go indoors,” but in the agitation and suspense at that moment overwhelming Constance, “indoors” was not so easy to bear. Hamish strode off, Tom following him. Arthur remained with his sister, waiting and watching still. And so they waited and watched through the livelong night. Hamish was at work; the police were at work; Tom was at work: but neither sign nor trace could be found of Charles Channing. CHAPTER XLII. -- AN OFFICIAL CEREMONY INTERRUPTED.